

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT, 

















THE OUTLAW 


DAVID HENNESSEY 









i 


t 












s 


/ 


THE OUTLAW 


BY 

DAVID HENNESSEY 

AUTHOR OF “THE DIS HONOURABLE,” “THE BUSH TRACK,” 
“WYNNUM,” ETC. 



HODDER & STOUGHTON 
NEW YORK 

GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 


.0 

% 


Copyright, 1913 

By George H. Doran Company 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

Prologue — The Snow-grass Country vii 

CHAPTER 

I The Horns of a Dilemma 1 

II A Trial by Jury 8 

III Betsy Carey Rides into the Story .... 17 

IV Salathiel Personates a School-teacher . . 23 

V The Schoolmaster’s Curriculum 31 

VI Wheels within Wheels 38 

VII A School Feast in the Forties 44 

VHI A Curious Study for a Philosopher .... 58 

IX Tot Gardiner Hits Back 64 

X Mr. Flannigan, of the Wollombi . . . . .73 

XI Silas Stump’s Advice 82 

XII How the Bushrangers Bluffed Maitland . . 88 

XIII Retrospect and Failure 93 

XIV Bob Carey Thinks Better of it 98 

XV A Chapter of Accidents 106 

XVI The Rescue of Salathiel 117 

XVII Afterthoughts and Explanations . . . .122 

XVIII Back to Bushranging 129 

XIX Tot Gardiner Disappears 135 

XX The School Committee Meets 146 

XXI The Way of Transgressors 156 

.XXII The Valley of Shadows 168 

XXIII Betsy Becomes Schoolmistress 176 

XXIV A Gilded Pill for Salathiel 182 

XXV The Glen of Adullam . . 200 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XXVI Foes in Council 207 

XXVII The Liverpool Ranges 213 

XXVIII A Letter for Betsy 222 

XXIX Encompassed by Fire 228 

XXX The Chamber of the Dead 240 

XXXI The Military Called Out 247 

XXXII Salathiel Run to Earth 255 

XXXIII The Capture of Captain Moore 262 

XXXIV D*eath IN THE Gully .274 

XXXV A Colonial Currency Lass 281 

XXXVI Major McFarlane 289 

XXXVII The Banditti Party 298 

XXXVIII Sydney Shows the Governor its Teeth . . 305 

XXXIX His Excellency’s Vote of Censure . . . .312 

XL An Appeal unto Caesar 318 

XLI A Break in the Clouds 327 

XLII The Midnight Wedding 337 

XLIII Sunlight on the Sea 347 


PROLOGUE 


THE SNOW-GEASS COUNTRY 

W INTER is quaintly beautiful upon tbe Southern 
Highlands of Australia. At dawn, in the snow- 
grass country, a drear landscape presents itself, white 
with heavy frost, yet, by noon, the whole scene is trans- 
formed into a warm, sunlit fairyland. Thus, for two 
or three hours, in the middle of most winter days, you 
have, up there, summer warmth, verdure, flowers 
and a crystal atmosphere. But all is transitory, for 
behind the hills chilling winds lie ambushed, and once 
the sun touches the distant skyline, they hustle winter 
in again to reoccupy its old territory. When night 
comes, with myriad stars, the still landscape is again 
quickly robed in pure white vesture. 

It was during a winter’s residence in tents in the 
snow-grass country that I heard the gist of the follow- 
ing story from one of the “ old hands,” a grizzled vet- 
eran whose hair was white with the frosts and snows of 
many winters spent among those bleak and little known 
highlands, which stretch for a hundred miles along the 
north-eastern border of the State of Victoria. 

Our tents were pitched on a grassy terrace in a forest 
clearing overlooking a rushing ice-cold crystal stream. 
Eor many miles around was bush and forest, where the 
foot of man, or hoof of rider’s horse, rarely trod. It 
was a land of many wonders, the haunt of old-time 


Vlll 


PROLOGUE 


bushrangers and lone-hand miners, and of birds and 
animals becoming every year more rare. 

The men made a sapling enclosure near the tents, in 
which we cooked and ate our food. They called it 
“ the kitchen.” It was about twelve feet square, 
thatched with bushes, and screened with them at the 
end and sides. But the feature of the enclosure was 
the large fire-place, built of green saplings, sunk erect 
side by side in a trench to form a chimney, and flagged 
with stones. It was banked high up with clay, which 
the fire baked hard. It was a wonderful inglenook. 
A rough, red-gum bench, with supports sunk in the 
ground, was placed so that a sitter could face either the 
table or fire-place at pleasure. Here, in front of huge 
log fires, at night in the winter months we sat and 
smoked and yarned. There was a fascination for me 
about those fires. How they glowed and crackled and 
blazed ! The nipping winds from off the Snowy 
Mountains placed cold hands upon our backs and shoul- 
ders ; but we laughed and smoked and yarned unchilled. 
And when Old Boreas blew most boisterously, and we 
heard afar the roar of the storm-swept forest, we only 
piled more wood upon the blazing hearth. 

The Swede sat to my left, and old Crocker on my 
right, and it usually fell to me to read the news aloud, 
or talk. But when the news was read, and conversa- 
tion flagged, what a place it was for reverie! Hot 
another human being within ten miles of us. But the 
fire was company. It lit up the leafy kitchen walls, 
and shone warm and homelike in our faces, and held 
and reassured us, as does the warm hand of a friend. 
Its genial glow would, at times, set the Swede hum- 
ming soft melodies of the far-off Fatherland, and re- 


PROLOGUE 


IX 


store to Joe Crocker the lost memories of early days. 
Tor myself, I used to look into that fire and think and 
think, and talk, and muse, and dream, until often I 
forgot Australia altogether. I was back in London, or 
Paris, or old Madrid, or Italy, or Athens. Then maybe 
the howl of a dingo, from somewhere down the creek, 
would startle us, and Joe’s eyes, still looking in the fire, 
would glisten as he heard it; while the Swede and I, 
turning around, peered out into the frosty night, where 
the purple sky, glorious with constellations, hung si- 
lently over the dark forest. 

Said Joe one night, looking with a far-away regard 
into the fire: “ That dingo reminds me of Jack Sala- 
thiel, the Jew bushranger. The howl of a dingo was 
one of his night signals.” 

“ Is that so ? ” I said, and I filled my pipe again, for 
Joe began to tell us a strange tale of a Jew bushranger 
named Jack Salathiel. 

Joe was usually a man of few words, as are many 
fine bushmen and lone-hand miners; but his stirring 
descriptions of the old bushranging days were fluent 
and connected, as though he saw in the fire what he 
described to us, or, by its light, was reading from a 
book. He used to say : “ One’s memory is refreshed 

by looking in the fire.” 

I have tried his remedy, not without some success, 
for far away from those distant hills, when alone in 
the firelight, I often hear the strange roaring sound of 
that storm-swept forest, or recall the breathless hush 
of those frosty nights, when the sparkling heavens shone 
with relucent glory, and in the old bush kitchen, Joe 
Crocker told us strange tales of the bad old times. 












* 






















■ 




* 



























































THE OUTLAW 















THE OUTLAW 


CHAPTER I 

THE HORNS OF A DILEMMA 

% 

summer morning, late in the Australian Eor- 
ties, an assigned servant named John Salat hiel 
had angered his 'master, one Major Hastings ; and the 
Major was in a towering rage, although it was not really 
Salathiel’s fault. It was hard luck, for in a few weeks 
the man would have been due for a good-conduct ticket. 

Sitting upon his big grey mare, stockwhip in hand, 
the Major, with a flushed face and ugly oath, ordered 
him to take a six-months-old bull-calf to the butcher’s 
at Maitland, and be back by sundown; or, failing to 
do so, he would get fifty lashes at the triangles. There 
and back, the distance was twenty-four miles, and he 
had to go on foot. 

The man listened with his usual deference to the 
owner of Eurimbla Station ; he was taken by surprise ; 
but he flushed crimson when he realised the full mean- 
ing of the threat. He knew that the thing couldn’t be 
done. Major Hastings knew it too, even better than 
Salathiel, and the convict’s blood boiled with indigna- 
tion and dismay. But he was not easily cowed, and 
Salathiel touched his cap as he turned and walked over 
1 


2 


THE OUTLAW 


to the store, where Bob Brady, the station bookkeeper, 
stood waiting for him. 

It was with some surprise that Brady heard Salathiel, 
as he drew nearer, cursing the Major bitterly. 

“ What did the boss want you for, J ack ? ” he asked 
sharply. 

“ I have to drive the bull-calf that’s bellowing down 
in the yards to Maitland, and be back by sundown,” re- 
plied Jack sullenly. 

The bookkeeper looked at Salathiel for a moment, 
with an amused twinkle in his eye, and then burst into 
a laugh. The idea of the tall, handsome, steady-going 
Government man, 1 who helped him with the station 
accounts, and for twelve months had scarcely soiled his 
hands, having a bull-calf in tow on the Maitland road ! 
He liked Salathiel well; but this was too much for his 
gravity. 

“ I’ll bet you half a crown, Jack,” he exclaimed, 
laughing heartily, “ you won’t get the brute outside 
the home-paddock slip-panels inside two hours; those 
bull-calves, out of the run, are perfect devils to handle 
alone.” 

“ He says ” — and the man’s face flushed again with 
shame — “ that if I am not back with the butcher’s re- 
ceipt by sundown, he’ll see that I get fifty lashes. Curse 
him!” he ejaculated, “it’s over twelve miles there, 
isn’t it ? ” 

The bookkeeper stopped laughing, for he liked Sala- 
thiel. He knew him to be an educated man, altogether 
different from the common run of convicts; he knew 
how hardly he had struggled with his lot, and how 
assiduously he had tried to please the Major; if possi- 

i Convict. 


THE HORNS OF A DILEMMA 3 

ble, in some measure to retrieve his lost position. And 
so this reserved, kindly, self-contained young fellow 
was to be broken and degraded at the triangles on the 
whim of a military despot! Rrady was rough and 
hard himself, but his whole soul was moved with indig- 
nation at the injustice and brutality of the thing. 
“ Jack,” he suddenly exclaimed, “if I were a Govern- 
ment man and had a job given me like that, with such 
an alternative, I'm hanged if I wouldn’t clear out and 
turn bushranger ! 99 

It was an unhandled, newly-branded calf, fresh from 
the run, that Salathiel had to take to Maitland. A 
stout rope was knotted around its thick neck, so that, 
whatever tricks it might play, it could not well choke. 
Struggling and bellowing, it took two men to get it out 
of the yard, and they grinned at each other as they 
passed the rope over to Jack. It was breakfast time ; the 
boss was not about, so they climbed to the top rail of 
the stock-yard fence, and pulling out their pipes, sat 
down to see the performance. 

They had not long to wait. The sting of the hot 
branding iron was fresh on the youngster’s tender skin, 
and bellowing wildly, it leaped upon its hind legs, and 
then started furiously down the hill. 

Salathiel knew something about station life; but this 
was his first experience with a bull-calf. He held on 
to the brute, however, pulling hard back upon the rope, 
and ran as fast as possible. By good luck, the animal 
headed for the Maitland road slip-panels; but Jack’s 
satisfaction was shortlived, for he tripped over a stump 
hidden in the long grass and, amid roars of laughter 
from the stockmen, was thrown flat on his back. Clutch- 


THE OUTLAW 


4 

ing savagely at the rope, he was towed over the grass 
behind the frightened animal, which, with tail erect 
and foaming at the mouth, made for a distant fence. 
It was a ludicrous sight, and the bookkeeper and station 
hands roared with laughter. 

“ The fence’ll stop ’m,” said one of the laughing 
stockmen, “ but he’ll never get the devil to Maitland 
unless he carries him.” “ The Boss must have a down 
on Jack to set him such a job,” said another. “ I 
wouldn’t undertake it for a tenner.” 

Salathiel would have given it up then and there but 
for the threatened flogging, for he was badly cut and 
bruised and hatless ; but he held on, hoping that the 
frightened animal would soon come to a standstill. 
When at last it stopped, he got up half-dazed, to 
find the calf with its head and leg thrust between the 
panels of the fence, so, hitching the rope round a post, 
he secured his hat and ran to let down the slip-panels. 
Fortunately, they were not far distant. Taking them 
down, he stood for a moment to pull himself together. 
He had been dragged nearly half a mile and was pant- 
ing, with the sweat pouring off him. Beturning, he 
found that the calf had backed out of the fence, bellow- 
ing, if possible, more loudly than before, and, with pro- 
truding tongue, was pulling back upon the rope with the 
strength of a young horse. 

It was a big-boned, vicious scrubber, and Jack knew 
that kindness would only be thrown away. The brute 
must be mastered and cowed. 

“ I haven’t been flogged for two years,” said Jack 
aloud, “ and I’ll get you to Maitland somehow, you 
devil, or choke you.” He shuddered at the recollection 
of the last flogging, of which he still carried the scars. 


THE HORNS OF A DILEMMA 5 

He, by birth and education a gentleman, who, in his 
youth, had been full of youthful ambition! 

“ My God ! ” he exclaimed, “ it were better to die ! ” 

But the sun was fast rising in the heavens, so he set 
himself to undo the strained rope. Then, by main 
force, he pulled the stubborn brute upon the road, and 
tied him to the fence while he put up the slip-panels. 
Salathiel stood six feet in his socks and was broad in 
the shoulders ; he was on his mettle ; somehow he would 
do it in the time. He might be able to get a lift in a 
cart or dray with the animal, so he unfastened the rope 
from the fence, and cutting a stout stick, prepared to 
make a fresh start. 

The calf, however, had no intention of starting, and 
in answer to Jack’s “ Get up,” only bellowed and 
backed closer to the fence, but a smart blow moved 
him, when he swerved round to horn Salathiel, and in 
doing so, got the rope entangled in his legs and fell. 
On Jack approaching to get him up, he suddenly sprang 
forward, and with a jerk wrenched the rope out of the 
man’s hands. 

“You wretch!” ejaculated Jack, as he rushed after 
him ; but the calf was too quick, and raced off into the 
bush. It was another hour ere, sweating at every pore, 
he caught the animal. Twice he had lost sight of him 
completely. It was marvellous that he caught him at 
all, on foot; but the rope had got fast in the crooked 
roots of a fallen tree. 

They were both winded by this time, and after once 
more being started in the right direction, the calf moved 
quietly along for a while. Suddenly, however, it 
slewed sharply around, and describing a circle, got the 
rope round Jack’s legs and then made a desperate rush 


6 


THE OUTLAW 


back for the station. The man fell, and was dragged a 
short distance ; but his grip of the rope never relaxed. 

'Now, as every stockman knows, a six-months’ bull- 
calf is a terror to drive alone, under any circumstances ; 
but this one seemed possessed of the strength and vi- 
ciousness of a dozen of its kind, and at last, after four 
hours had passed, without having covered as many miles, 
Salathiel, hungry and well-nigh exhausted with the 
struggle, tied the animal to a tree and sat down on a 
fallen log to rest himself and think. 

He got his pipe out, for, although he had forgotten 
to bring food, he had his pipe and tobacco with him. 
Smoking, he remembered the bookkeeper’s hasty words. 

“ Brady was right,” he said to himself, “ there’s 
nothing else for it ; I’ll not go back to be flogged. But 
it is a brutal shame ; I was due for a ticket in less than 
three months.” 

The man looked despairingly up at the sun; it 
was past noon — he could never do it. Then followed 
further gloomy thoughts, and even tears and broken 
prayers as he struggled hard with himself, until at 
last he decided to leave the calf to choke to death, if need 
be, and make for an outlaw’s life in the Liverpool 
Ranges. 

And yet he waited for another hour, hoping that a 
dray or cart might come along and help him out of his 
desperate dilemma. He had three long-hoarded one 
pound notes about him. How willingly would he have 
given them all to see that calf safely at Maitland ! 

Presently a gig passed along the road. The driver 
was a neighbouring squatter, but he only glanced at 
Jack and the calf suspiciously; he was in a hurry, or 
he might have pulled up to ask whose calf it was. 


THE HORNS OF A DILEMMA 7 

Still Jack waited, looking anxiously now up the road, 
now down. Then he would turn around and glare at 
the calf, which stood watching for the man’s next move, 
until the whole thing seemed to him like some hideous 
dream — he could see himself tied again to the triangles, 
broken and degraded under the brutal lash. 

How quiet and inviting, and odorous with the warm 
smell of gum trees, the great bush was — and yonder 
were the ranges ! 

Leaving the calf tied to the tree, Salathiel, sick at 
heart, went out into the road, and looked carefully up 
and down for the last time. He could not see or hear 
any one. Then, like a felon, he slunk off and disap- 
peared. 

The inevitable followed, John Joseph Salathiel was 
gazetted an escaped convict. A month or so afterwards, 
he, with some others, “ stuck up ” the Maitland coach ; 
a constable, who had wounded several bushrangers, 
was shot dead, and in due course J ack was proclaimed 
an outlaw. 

The story of Jack Salathiel and the bull-calf became 
a by-word for men to laugh at. It was the last straw, 
which made a bushranger of a would-be honest man. 


CHAPTER II 


A TRIAL BY JURY 

O NE morning, some two months after the events al- 
ready recorded, McBurton’s Hotel, on the Liver- 
pool Plains Road, was uncommonly busy. 

There was to be a dinner and a dance that night at 
a wealthy squatter’s about four miles off, and not a few 
of the guests had looked in on the way to have a drink 
and lunch and hear the news, or to do some business 
with acquaintances, before proceeding to the scene of 
the festivities. 

Sam Grant, the overseer at Eurimbla, was among the 
early arrivals. He had arranged to meet Ben Baxter, 
of Mount Hope, about some cattle. 

“ By-the-way, Sam,” said the latter, after their busi- 
ness was transacted and they sat in the commercial- 
room smoking, with glasses before them, “ that Jack 
Salathiel of yours has not let the grass grow under his 
feet since he took to the Bush. I hear that he is leader 
now of one of the gangs that has been playing old boots 
with them up Walcha and Armidale way.” 

“ Ah ! ” replied Grant, “ it’s an awful pity about 
him; he was a quiet enough chap down at Eurimbla, 
and a gentlemanly fellow too; I hear that old Walker is 
in a great fluster. Salathiel sent him a letter last week ; 
quite a formal document, by George ! — you know he 
is a fine scholar — threatening him with summary ven- 


A TRIAL BY JURY 9 

geance if he flogged any more Government men on his 
place without full inquiry.” 

“ Things are coming to a pretty pass,” grumbled 
Baxter, “ these dashed mounted police are not a bit of 
protection. By-the-way, Sam,” he continued, laughing, 
“ I hope you had nothing to do with sending the fellow 
off with that bull-calf to Maitland. It’s no wonder the 
wretch took to the Bush.” 

Both men were laughing at this, when the overseer, 
turning round suddenly, exclaimed: “ What’s up in 
the bar ? ” 

Evidently something very unusual was happening. 
The two men rose to their feet and started to the door. 

“ Bail up now ! ” cried a rough voice. They were 
covered by firearms, and threw up their hands immedi- 
ately. 

Three armed men stood in the doorway, and it was 
evident that resistance would be useless. Not a shot 
had been fired so far; but judging by the general com- 
motion, the bushrangers were there in force. Both 
Baxter and Grant were unarmed, so they quietly went 
back and sat down again upon their chairs, as directed. 

“ Whose gang is it ? ” asked Grant nervously. 

“ Salathiel’s,” was the answer, “ and understand this, 
there’s no one going to be robbed or shot if you keep 
quiet. The Captain’s here on a bit of lynch law busi- 
ness — there’s a dozen of us, and the pub surrounded, 
so there’s going to be no flutter, and it’s no use making 
any fuss.” 

In the meantime, the leader of the gang had walked 
coolly into the bar, where quite a dozen men were stand- 
ing, and putting down a one pound note, called for 


IO 


THE OUTLAW 


drinks for himself and his men, and any of the company 
who might care to join them. 

The man serving at the bar hesitated for a moment. 
He had recognised Salathiel, and hearing the clatter of 
horses outside and the general commotion, completely 
lost his head. 

“ How be quick, my friend, if you don’t want a bul- 
let through your skull,” said Salathiel, pointing a dou- 
ble-barrelled pistol at him, “ there’s five of them to 
serve in front, and the others are somewhere at the 
back.” 

In dress and general appearance, Salathiel was now 
a man very different from the cowed and fearful convict 
with a bull-calf in tow upon the Maitland Road. His 
bushy brown beard and moustache were carefully 
trimmed in the fashion of the time. Gold chain and 
seals hung from the fob of his well-cut riding breeches, 
and his jack-boots, bright spurs, smart riding jacket 
and cabbage-tree wide-awake suggested a wealthy sport- 
ing squatter or an officer of mounted troops in mufti. 

Ho one in the bar dared lift a hand against the 
bushrangers, for they knew that it was as much as their 
lives were worth to do so. 

When the barman, white as a sheet from fright, came 
back from serving the men outside, he and the others 
were ordered into the commercial-room, where they 
found all on the premises gathered under guard. 
There were several well-known men of the district pres- 
ent, as the gang had expected; for the latter knew all 
about the dinner and the dance. 

Having seen that all was right outside, Salathiel 
walked in and ordered one of his men to place refresh- 
ments on the long table. “ It’s paid for, all on the 


A TRIAL BY JURY 


ii 


square, gentlemen, : ” he said. “ If any of you wish to 
to do so, help yourselves.” 

With that he took a more careful look round the 
room, nodding to Sam Grant and one or two others 
whom he recognised, including a Maitland publican, 
and then called out : “ Where’s McBurton ? ” 

“ I don’t think he’s at home,” replied the barman 
hastily. 

“ No lies,” said Salathiel quietly. “ Go and fetch 
him here, or we’ll serve you as we intend, later on, to 
serve him.” 

A few minutes afterwards McBurton was dragged in 
by one of the gang, followed by the barman. They 
had found him, half-drunk, hiding in the cellar. 

•“ Stand him down at the other end of the table,” 
commanded Salathiel. 

Among the company, besides those already men- 
tioned, there were three commercial travellers and the 
manager of a big northern station — Jack had hoped 
that his late master might be there too. 

“ We are going to give this man a fair trial,” said 
the bushranger, addressing the room, “ and if we find 
him guilty, summary punishment. The charges 
against him are, that twelve months ago he secured the 
hanging of two of his assigned servants without just 
cause, and more recently, the brutal flogging of others 
for trivial offences. . . . What do you say, McBur- 
ton : are you guilty or not guilty ? ” 

“For God’s sake spare me, Jack Salathiel,” groaned 
the terrified man. 

“ Ah well, we’ll let you plead not guilty, as a matter 
of form.” 

“ Fitz,” he said, addressing one of the gang, “ go 


12 


THE OUTLAW 


into the office and bring out McBurton’s old magis- 
trate’s Bible, that he used to swear oaths on, before he 
resigned the Commission of the Peace to start this pub ; 
and you, George,” nodding to one of the commercial 
travellers, “ come over here with that order book of 
yours and take down the depositions, and act generally 
as clerk of the court. Do you hear?” he called out 
roughly, picking up his pistol from the table when 
George hesitated. 

“ All right, Salathiel ; put down your shooting iron,” 
said the commercial man, who was a representative of a 
big Sydney firm. “ Notice, gentlemen,” he continued, 
addressing the company somewhat nervously, “ I am 
acting on compulsion.” 

Six men, including Baxter, Grant, a commercial, and 
the Maitland publican, were then gravely sworn on Mc- 
Burton’s Bible, to give a true verdict according to the 
evidence; and Salathiel called one of his men as first 
witness for the prosecution. He made him kiss the 
Book with due formality. 

The man was an escaped convict, who, until recently, 
had been in service on a large selection which McBur- 
ton owned. He swore to having been an eye-witness of 
the hanging of his fellow servants in a paddock, only 
a few yards from the main road. After frightful ill- 
usage and provocation, they had attempted McBurton’s 
life. 

“ How many times were these men flogged by the 
prisoner’s orders before they were executed ? ” asked 
Salathiel. 

“ Mostly every month,” replied the witness. 

McBurton glared across the table at his old servant, 
and was heard to mutter something. 


A TRIAL BY JURY 13 

“ Silence in Court ! ” thundered Salathiel, pointing 
his double-barrelled pistol at the prisoner. “ I won’t 
have the witnesses intimidated. Another word until 
you are called upon to speak, and I will deal with you 
myself.” 

At this, the company behind and nearest to the pris- 
oner hurriedly pushed themselves farther out of the 
way. 

Two other witnesses from the gang then gave evi- 
dence on oath, each one corroborating the charges of 
cruelty, of which many instances were cited. 

“How, what have you to say for yourself, prisoner, 
in reply to these charges?” said Salathiel harshly. 
“ If you have any witnesses, we’ll have them called.” 

The trembling, bloated wretch, overbearing and cruel 
as he was, proved a cur at heart. He tottered half 
fainting with fright at the end of the table, and held 
the edge of it with his hands ; the sweat stood in beads 
upon his face; but he made no reply. He had no wit- 
nesses to call. His revolting cruelty to his assigned 
servants was the talk of the countryside. He shook his 
head, but made no answer. His expectation, and that 
of every man in the room, excepting the gang, was that 
he would be shot in his tracks as he stood at the end of 
the table. 

“ Gentlemen of the J ury,” said Salathiel, turning 
sternly around to the men he had sworn to return a true 
verdict. “ You have heard the evidence ; the prisoner 
at the bar was, like many others, transported here from 
the old country. What his crimes may have been I 
don’t know. Here he successfully worked himself into 
the favour of the authorities, until, ultimately, through 
his wealth, or his cunning, or his villainy, he was made 


THE OUTLAW 


14 

a magistrate — that in itself was illegal, as you all 
know — but, being on the Commission, it only gave him 
opportunity for more brutality. He has shown no pity 
for the men, whose hard lot he himself well knows. To 
agonising appeals for mercy from those who were 
equally his fellows in the sight of God, he has shown 
no pity. You have heard how he has flogged fainting 
women with his own hand, when the Government flog- 
ger refused to proceed further. Several men have died 
as the result of floggings by his instructions ; two of his 
victims he has hanged ; and dozens have, in various ways, 
been brutally ill-treated by him. Bad as some of them 
have been, they are largely what his devilish cruelty 
made them. You are on your oaths, gentlemen, to do 
justice between man and man; there is no need for you 
to retire from the Court. I will give you five minutes, 
by that clock, to consider your verdict. Is the prisoner 
guilty or not guilty of the charges alleged against 
him ? ” 

On this Salathiel sat down, somewhat flushed, while 
a silence as of death fell on the company. 

After they had listened to the ticking of the clock 
for a few minutes, the bushranger looked sternly at the 
jury and lifted his weapon significantly. It was quite 
enough ; they at once put their heads together and con- 
ferred in whispers. It was clear that the gang would 
stand no trifling. 

A moment afterwards the commercial traveller stood 
up. “ J ack Salathiel,” said he, “ we recommend the 
prisoner to the mercy of the Court.” 

“ Thank you, gentlemen,” said the bushranger, drily 
bowing his head to them. 

“ Prisoner at the bar,” he said sternly, looking over 


A TRIAL BY JURY 15 

at McBurton, “ you are found guilty by the jury, al- 
though they have not exactly said so ; but they recom- 
mend you to mercy. Probably you do not know what 
that means ; but I will explain. Had you been found 
guilty only, you would have been taken out of this 
court and hanged under your own signboard as a warn- 
ing to other brutes and murderers ; but in view of the 
jury having recommended you to mercy, the sentence of 
the Court is that you be stripped and tied under your 
signboard in full view of the public and receive fifty 
lashes, well laid on.” 

Every one passing along the Liverpool Plains Road 
that afternoon was bailed up to see the flogging, and 
Salathiel and the gang took good care that the lash (a 
cat-o’-nine-tails found in McBurton’s own office) was 
properly applied. 

McBurton fainted after the thirtieth stroke, so 
Salathiel ordered him to be cut down, and handed 
him over, stripped and bleeding as he was, to his wife 
and daughter. 

Although, when it heard of this outrage, the whole 
Colony laughed in its sleeve and chuckled over 
McRurton’s well-deserved punishment, Salathiel and 
his gang knew that if anything were likely to stir up 
the police to unwonted activity, it was the flogging 
of a one-time magistrate. It was a reflection, also, 
upon the administration of Justice’s justice in the 
Colony. 

The night closed in with a thunderstorm and heavy 
rain, and Salathiel decided that, under cover of the 
storm, his gang should scatter for a few weeks. Some 
of the men grumbled that they had not been allowed 
to ease the publican and his guests of their loose cash 


i6 


THE OUTLAW 


and jewellery; but Salathiel told them that he would 
not spoil a good thing and explained to them that their 
moderation would stagger the authorities, and make 
them not a few friends. 

Then he informed them that, as their wants for the 
time being were well supplied (they had just before 
“ stuck up” a couple of store-teams), he intended to 
take himself off south for a month or so, where he had 
a good thing on. He would meet them when matters 
had quieted down, at their old rendezvous in the Liver- 
pool Ranges. 


\ 


CHAPTER III 


BETSY CABEY BIDES INTO THE STOBY 

A T the time of this narrative, Poddy Carey was a 
settler in one of the fertile valleys of the south 
coast of New South Wales. The man had been a 
soldier, and this was a Government grant of three hun- 
dred acres, somewhat inconveniently situated near a 
rocky height, known as Bailey’s Bluff, which towered 
in solitary grandeur above the whole district. 

The summit was bare, and also the eastern front, 
which overlooked the distant Pacific Ocean. On the 
other three sides it was thickly timbered, the trees, in 
places, seeming to spring out of the very rock. Prom 
the valley they looked little more than bushes, but when 
near the summit they were found to be good-sized trees. 
It was a spot to which, in those days, few climbed for 
pleasure, although they might have done so, for the 
view of the far-off Pacific and long stretch of coast 
line was unsurpassed even in that romantic district. 
Landward was a panorama of rural scenery, with oc- 
casional glimpses of a broad river and wooded hills, 
down the sides of which running waters flashed here 
and there, in the sunlight, on their precipitous courses 
to broad valleys, where fat cattle fed contentedly and 
the fruits of a primitive husbandry rewarded the 
labourer’s toil. 

Things have altered since then, but at the time of 
17 


THE OUTLAW 


18 

this story a quieter or more secluded place, within easy 
reach of Sydney, could scarcely have been found. 
Mails were received only at rare intervals; while rail- 
way travelling and telegraph messages were unknown. 

The only road from the Sydney side to Poddy 
Carey’s farm was by a steep bridle track around the 
Bluff. 

A little before noon one sweltering hot day, a horse- 
man might have been seen making his way up the track 
which led in the direction of this farm. The trees 
were less dense upon the lower portion of the ascent, 
which was thickly bestrewn with boulders. 

u Steady, Fleetfoot, old man ! I think I will walk 
a bit here ! ” exclaimed the traveller, pulling up the 
thoroughbred and swinging himself off the saddle. 

He turned round and glanced down the steep hill- 
side as he dropped the reins upon the sweating neck 
of the horse. It would have been a serious matter for 
either horse or rider to stumble and roll over just 
there. They were about half-way up, and it was al- 
ready a fearful descent to look down upon. And yet, 
as the man trod carefully along, closely followed by 
his horse, his experienced eye noted the recent tracks of 
cattle and pigs, as well as of horses. 

“ I’ve not lost my way, that’s certain,” he said aloud ; 
“ but what a road to lead to a farm ! How on earth 
can they get butter and eggs and poultry to market, 
and drive pigs over such a place as this ? I suppose the 
descent is easier on the other side; the track can’t ex- 
actly cross the summit, so there must be some way round 
higher up.” 

At this he cast his eyes through an opening in the 


BETSY CAREY 19 

trees toward the bald summit which towered above 
him. Then for a full half-minute he stood motionless. 

“ Hanged if there isn’t a petticoat up there ! ” he 
said; “ one of Poddy Carey’s daughters looking out 
for Mr. Bennett, I suppose. I remember they told me 
there would be three girls and two boys to attend school 
from this selection.” Then he laughed, and laughed 
again, as he trudged up the steep track, still closely 
followed by his well-trained steed. 

Another quarter of a mile brought him to what at 
first sight seemed a solid wall of rock, from the side 
of which a substantial fence stretched out to form a 
wing for fully thirty yards. It had evidently been 
set up to assist in driving cattle and other animals 
through some narrow opening. 

“ Pig proof too!” he ejaculated, examining the 
fence more closely, with evident approval. Here he 
re-mounted, and following the beaten track, which was 
now smoother and broader, he soon came upon another 
wing of fencing, which turned the traveller abruptly 
around a jagged corner, when he found himself inside a 
large natural enclosure, walled in by perpendicular 
rocks. 

“ Splendid ! ” he exclaimed, looking around : “ room 
to muster a couple of hundred head,” and then an in- 
voluntary exclamation of surprise burst from him, for 
riding towards him in this strange place, on a. wicked- 
looking piebald pony, came a fair young girl about 
seventeen years of age, who seemed to have taken in at 
a glance both Fleetfoot and his rider. 

“ I suppose you are Mr. Bennett, the new teacher ? ” 
she said, as their eyes met. “ I’m to be one of your 


20 


THE OUTLAW 


scholars. Fm Betsy Carey,” and with that she moved 
her pony nearer and held out her hand. 

“ I’m sure I am very pleased to meet you, Miss 
Carey,” he said, taking the outstretched hand in a 
cordial grip, “ and I shall be very glad to have you 
for a pupil.” 

“ Fm not so sure about that,” answered the girl 
with a pleasant laugh ; “ we have counted up that there 
will be fifteen grown-up girls among your scholars in 
the new school; and some of them threaten to — ” 
At this she stopped suddenly, as though fearful of be- 
traying a confidence. 

“ I may count, however, upon your assistance and 
good example, Miss Carey,” replied the new teacher, 
gravely. 

“ I don’t know so much about that,” said the maiden 
demurely ; “ you see, mother has taught me all that I 
know, and Fve never been to school before; besides, 
they all say I’m a bit of a limb, and I shall have ten 
cows to milk before coming to school, and Loiterer here 
plays up a bit sometimes, and won’t be caught, and that 
always puts me out; so you see, I may not always be 
of much assistance to you, nor a good example either.” 

All this was said with the utmost seriousness and 
frankness of manner, so much so that the teacher could 
not repress a smile. 

“ We heard you were coming over, and mother’s ex- 
pecting you to dinner,” the girl chattered away ; “ and 
there’s dumplings, so we had better be quick, or they 
may be spoiled. By the way, Mr. Bennett, as I’m to 
be your scholar, you might as well start and call me 
Betsy; and mother told me to caution you not to take 
particular notice of father when he swears. It’s his 


BETSY CAREY 21 

wa J ? you may reform him afterwards, when you get to 
know him better; but he means no harm, and we are 
all used to it; you know the men do swear a good bit 
about here.” 

By this time they had emerged from the enclosure 
by a somewhat similar opening in the rock on the other 
side, and the teacher seemed to find it difficult to main- 
tain any sustained conversation with his new acquaint- 
ance. Loiterer altogether belied his name, and scram- 
bled along the steep pathway, which now dropped 
abruptly towards the bed of a shallow stream, and 
stepped over stones and water- worn ruts and projecting 
roots of trees, as nimbly as might a goat or cat. 

After fording the river, on a pebbly bottom, they 
cantered across some fertile flats, toward the rising 
ground upon which the house and rough farm buildings 
were situated. Loiterer champed his bit and tossed his 
head meanwhile, in sundry ways making it plain that he 
and his mistress were used to a little faster travelling, 
but a slow canter was the quickest pace at which the 
seemingly city-bred school-teacher cared to travel. 

“ Fm afraid those dumplings will be heavy,” 
grumbled Betsy, looking up at the sun to note the 
time as they neared the house. “ And, Mr. Bennett,” 
she continued, almost in the same breath, as she bent 
over her pony and took down a top slip-rail, preparatory 
to jumping across the two lower ones, “ don’t expect 
to see me at school when it rains heavily, for the 
creek comes down a banker in no time, and there’s a 
good bit to do then about the place; besides, Loiterer 
isn’t a very strong swimmer in a flood.” 

“ My word! ” ejaculated the mischievous girl to her- 
self. She had jumped Loiterer over the slip-rails, and 


22 


THE OUTLAW 


then had pulled round to see how the school-teacher was 
coming along, laughing to herself, as she pictured him 
fumbling to take down the two remaining slip-rails, to 
walk his horse through; but instead, to her surprise, 
the city-bred man, as she supposed him, cleared the 
lower rails with the ease of an accomplished rough- 
rider, and then wheeled his horse round and bent over 
in the saddle to re-place the rail which she had taken 
down, as though it were the most ordinary thing to do. 

At this, the teacher went up considerably in Betsy’s 
estimation, especially as she made some mental notes 
upon the way he sat in the saddle and managed his 
horse, which stood side-on to the fence, as steady 
as a house, while he re-adjusted the rail. It was not 
exactly a showy animal he rode; but the girl knew 
the good points of a horse almost as well as her father, 
and her curiosity was piqued as to how a man who 
taught school should ride so well and possess so valu- 
able a bit of horse-flesh. 

However, as her companion rode up and overtook 
her, he might have been heard cursing his stupidity 
under his breath in unscholarly language for not being 
more on his guard. He had no wish to handicap him- 
self at the start by arousing unnecessary curiosity as to 
his antecedents. 

Whatever she may have thought, the girl made no 
remark; and they rode up together to the verandah of 
the house, where Mrs. Carey — one of those women 
“ whose price is above rubies ”■ — stood waiting to wel- 
come the visitor. 


CHAPTER IV 


SAX.ATHIEI, PERSONATES A SCHOOLrTEACHER 

rTlHE clanging of a bullock bell announced to tbe 
family that the teacher had arrived and dinner was 
ready. As may be imagined, to have an educated 
stranger from Sydney to dinner at the Careys’ was 
not an everyday occurrence, and the visit of the new 
teacher had been a matter of no little concern to them 
all. 

Poddy Carey was glad to have his boys and girls 
taught, but he hated fuss. His wife, however, was 
a woman whose superior intelligence had largely as- 
sisted in securing a teacher for the district, and she 
had prepared for his visit with a foresight worthy of 
herself and the occasion. 

The long dinner table was loaded with savoury 
viands, a chair stood at either end for the heads of 
the household, and one for the schoolmaster, with two 
long forms to accommodate the rest of the family. 

“ That’s Bob, mister,” said Poddy Carey, as a tall 
young man came in and, with some bashfulness, took 
his place at the table. Pat and Alice and Madge and 
Judy, and others to the number of nine, were similarly 
introduced to the teacher’s notice, and the meal was 
begun without further formality. 

The visitor having made a few remarks about the 
heat of the day and want of rain in the district, settled 
23 


24 


THE OUTLAW 


down to enjoy his dinner, and for a time there was 
a somewhat awkward silence, broken only by the clash 
of knives and forks and occasional clatter of tea-cups, 
as they were copiously replenished by Betsy lower 
down the table. 

Mrs. Carey was naturally quiet and talked but little, 
but she kept a hospitable eye on the teacher’s plate, to 
make good any remissness on the part of her big hus- 
band; but at the same time, unobserved, she watched 
his face and wondered, as a woman will, over a score 
of things regarding his personality and propensities. 

“ I suppose he drinks a bit,” she thought to herself, 
“ or they would not have let so good-looking a man 
come down to an out-of-the-way place like this. I 
wonder how he got that scar on his forehead; you can 
see it now he has removed his hat. He looks like a 
married man, or he would not be so neat and tidy with 
his clothes; but then, he’s too clever and gentlemanly 
for any of our girls. What white teeth he has ! He is 
a nice man by the look and talk of him. I’ll answer 
for it that brazen Kitty Conroy will be making up to 
him. I wish he would talk a bit about Sydney and 
himself. I’ll ask him presently what schools he has 
taught and whether he has been long in the Colony. 
I’m rather sorry he’s not boarding with us — he might 
have taught Jim and Pat a bit at night, but we’re too 
far away. He looks an obliging, pleasant-tempered 
man, and is evidently well-bred.” And then the good 
woman sighed, as she thought of the rough work and 
hard and uncouth surroundings of her married life, and 
for a moment compared them with earlier days when 
she was a girl, in the pleasant home of her parents in 
Herefordshire. 


SALATHIEL PERSONATES 25 

Mrs. Jim Carey was well liked and respected by all 
the neighbours. She had kept her husband straight, 
and her knowledge and sagacity and kindly nature and 
persevering industry had largely aided his success in 
life. The sobriquet, which first attached itself to him 
when he used to ride through the district buying up 
poddy calves and weaklings and an occasional cow or 
bullock without a brand, still stuck ; but he was now a 
comparatively well-to-do man. He might have been a 
magistrate, and had Government men at his beck and 
call to work and flog; but Mrs. Carey had influenced her 
husband and indeed almost all the neighbourhood, to 
keep the district clear of convict labour. “ Things are 
bad enough for a mother with five girls to rear, with- 
out that,” she would say. And rough and hard as big 
Jim was, he agreed with her. 

“ How do you like the school-house we have put up ? ” 
asked Mrs. Carey, presently. 

“ It’s very comfortable and central,” replied the 
teacher. 

“ A bit out of the way, though, isn’t it, school- 
master ? ” said big Jim, passing his cup down for more 
tea. 

“ Ho, I don’t think so,” said the teacher. 

“ Been better more to this way,” persisted Poddy. 
“ I wanted it put nearer the south side of the creek, so 
that you might have boarded with the Mitchells. You 
may thank my Missis there for the shed for the horses, 
and the skillion to your shanty. I drew the slabs for 
the school with my bullocks, and, as there were a few 
over, got the chaps to use ’em up in the lean-to and 
sheds. I see you’ve got a dashed fine horse. Chaps 
like you don’t often get hold of thoroughbreds ; if you’d 


26 


THE OUTLAW 


been a stranger like, and not a teacher, we should have 
reckoned that you might have come by it on the cross.” 

The whole family laughed at this as a good joke, 
“ Fancy,” whispered Alice to Madge, “ a schoolmaster 
coming by anything on the cross ! ” 

The teacher laughed with the rest; but Mrs. Carey 
was annoyed with her husband, for she was watching 
her visitor closely when the question was put to him 
and thought he gave a start, as though he resented it. 
However, the laugh seemed to have broken through the 
teacher’s reserve, and put them all upon a more friendly 
footing, and by the time a big pudding was brought in 
by Madge, with a dish of cream, Mr. Bennett was chat- 
ting away pleasantly with his future pupils and their 
parents. 

“ I suppose you have taught school in several places 
before in the Colony ? ” queried Mrs. Carey. 

The teacher hesitated a moment, and then replied: 
“ Ho, not in a district or town school in Hew South 
Wales, Mrs. Carey.” 

“ I thought I heard that you were a teacher at Pat- 
rick’s Plains or Maitland 2 ” replied the good woman, 
somewhat discomposed. 

“ I know those towns,” said Bennett quietly, “ and 
have taught there; but not in any of the town schools.” 

“ Ah,” interjected Big Jim, standing up, “ you’ve 
been schoolmaster on some of the stations ! Come out- 
side, mister, and smoke a pipe of ’bacca on the 
verandah.” 

Mrs. Carey presently came out with a chair and 
sat on the verandah with the men, knitting in hand ; 
for she was never idle, and when the washing up was 
done, the three elder girls joined them, Alice seating 


SALATHIEL PERSONATES 


27 

herself on the steps with Madge, and Betsy on the 
verandah floor, on the other side of her father, her feet 
touching the grass which grew around the house. 

Her mother was giving some information to the 
teacher about a family named O’Grady, whom she 
wished him to call upon, in the expectation of securing 
the children as scholars. 

Where Betsy sat, with her back against a verandah 
post, she could look straight up into the teacher’s face. 
He was smoking a silver-mounted pipe, and seemed, 
to the girl, to be in a fit of abstraction. 

“ He’s not a hit interested in the school or scholars,” 
thought Betsy with a feeling of disappointment. “ I 
wonder what he’s thinking about.” 

“ Mr. Bennett,” she said abruptly. 

“ Well, Miss Carey,” he replied, smiling. 

“ I was wondering what you were thinking about, 
after mother told you about the O’Gradys.” 

“ To tell you the truth,” he said, after a short pause, 
“ the name reminded me of a bushranger of that name, 
and that led me to think of something I heard on the 
road; something which happened near Singleton, only 
last week.” 

“ Tell us about it, mister,” said Poddy, taking his 
pipe out of his mouth to refill, “ there’s no news down 
here; we only get a neighbour’s paper about once a 
fortnight, and that is often a month old.” 

He had been half-asleep while his wife was talking, 
but now evinced considerable interest. 

“ You girls had better go in and get ready for the 
milking,” said Mrs. Carey, with motherly thoughtful- 
ness. 

“ Cows won’t be up for another hour, mother,” ex- 


28 THE OUTLAW 

postulated Alice, who was all eagerness to hear the 
news. 

The teacher paused for a good half-minute, when, 
as nothing more was said about the girls going away, 
he remarked : “ There’s nothing very bad about it, 

Mrs. Carey, no one was robbed or murdered; but the 
chief actors will have the mounted police after them, 
hot and strong, for all that.” 

Poddy Carey gave a short, dissatisfied grunt, as 
though he thought that, without robbery and murder, 
the story was not likely to be of much account ; but the 
teacher proceeded. 

“ You may have heard of Jim McBurton’s hotel on 
the Liverpool Plains Road, a few miles out of Single- 
ton? Well, one day last week Jack Salathiel’s gang 
rode up early in the afternoon, and 1 stuck it up,’ and 
made up a jury, and tried old McBurton in the com- 
mercial-room, and found him guilty of brutal ill-treat- 
ment of his Government men. They flogged him 
afterwards under his own sign-board.” 

“ Tell us all about it, Mr. Bennett,” said Betsy 
eagerly. 

“ Wasn’t that the man who turned bushranger over 
a calf ? ” asked Alice. 

The schoolmaster flushed a little and drew his silk 
handkerchief across his face. It might have been the 
warm afternoon, thought Mrs. Carey, and the fact of 
his not yet being seasoned to the humid coastal heat; 
but he could not resist the sparkling eyes and eager 
questions of the girls, and presently he found himself 
telling them far more than he had intended of what he 
knew about Jack Salat hiel and the astonishing bush- 


SALATHIEL PERSONATES 29 

ranging episode which had occurred only the previous 
week at the Liverpool Plains Road Hotel. 

“ I’ve heard about McBurton before,” was Poddy 
Carey’s comment when the teacher had done, “ and it 
served him dashed well right. . . . But you’re a great 
hand at telling a yarn, schoolmaster,” he continued; 
u why, you might have been there yourself ! ” 

“ I’ve read it in the papers,” said the teacher quietly ; 
(C the commercial that acted as clerk of the court had 
once been a newspaper reporter, and he sent a vivid 
description of it all to the newspapers.” 

As he rode back to the lonely school-house late in the 
afternoon, the new teacher, devil-may-care as he was, 
felt a trifle uneasy in his mind. Both Betsy and Alice 
were evidently greatly taken with him, and he was 
afraid he might have trouble with them and some of 
the other girls he had heard about. 

u It was a fool’s trick to tell them so much about 
that Singleton affair,” he thought ; and then he laughed 
and wondered what Betsy would say when she found 
out that the narrator of the story was none other than 
the notorious Jack Salathiel himself. 

And yet, after all, he was somehow glad that he had 
told them; hardened as he was, he had good in him, 
and neither he nor his men had taken life, except in 
self-defence and in open combat. It was pleasant, also, 
for once to have had the chance of defending his char- 
acter before respectable people, and he fell into a more 
thoughtful mood. 

“ Hang it all! ” he suddenly ejaculated, “ I wish I 
had some grog in the shanty ; if I go on like this, I shall 
become as nervous as a cow.” 


30 


THE OUTLAW 


Then, somehow, he thought of Betsy Carey again, 
and laughed. She had not shown much nervousness, 
he thought, and he guessed that it was even possible 
she might enjoy the joke of an outlaw, whose very 
name was a terror to thousands, personating a country 
schoolmaster. 

“ She would never 6 come it ’ on me,” he said to 
himself, involuntarily making use of an expression 
often on the lips of the convicts. 


CHAPTER V 

THE SCHOOLMASTER’S CURRICULUM 

A MAN” who undertakes to personate another must 
be prepared to confront novel and unexpected 
difficulties, and when Salathiel undertook to play the 
part of John Bennett in the Broadhaven Valley, he 
met with many more surprises than he had bargained 
for. 

It was necessary for his plans that he should remain 
for at least three weeks or a month in the district, and 
that, he found, would necessitate his carrying out the 
schoolmaster’s role pretty well in its entirety. Capa- 
ble and audacious as he was, he found that he needed 
to have all his wits about him to sustain the character 
he had assumed. 

In a rough and homely way, the school committee 
had done its best to make the new teacher comfortable. 
A tiny two-roomed slab shanty, with a front verandah, 
had been run up for a residence by the side of the 
school-house. This had been roughly furnished with 
tables and chairs and a stretcher by the committee. 
He was to have his dinner at night at a neighbouring 
settler’s homestead, some half a mile distant; and the 
considerate thoughtfulness of Mrs. Carey and others 
had seen to his being provided with a start in the way 
of ordinary housekeeping. 

One had sent .over tea and sugar, another flour, an- 
31 


THE OUTLAW 


32 

other bacon, and another corned beef; for, rough as 
they mostly were, they were good-hearted folk, and the 
opening of a school was regarded as a very important 
event by the community. But, somehow, things 
cropped up which Jack had never dreamed of. It was 
suggested that a Sunday afternoon service might be 
held once a month in the school-house; and one of the 
first questions put to Jack by old Donald Macpherson 
was whether he could sing the Psalms of David and 
preach a bit. 

Jack gravely promised to think it over, and, to 
gain time, recommended Macpherson to consult the 
school committee about it; he said he must get his 
school curriculum going first. The Latin word stag- 
gered Donald, as it was intended to, and he assured his 
wife and family that the new schoolmaster was a “ varre 
larn’d mon.” 

There was a three-quarter moon shining, so, after 
Jack had made a billy of tea, he went out into the 
warm night air to have a smoke, and sat down upon a 
log in the school-house paddock. 

He turned over in his mind the events of the day, 
and laughed a good deal to himself about Poddy Carey 
and Betsy. He was not apprehensive, at present, of 
any unlooked-for consequences attending this last dar- 
ing move of his. There was no one but Bennett, the 
schoolmaster, to give him away, and he had made it all 
right in that quarter. It was evident to him that he 
was going to have some fun among the unsophisticated 
natives of the district ; but he must be careful. 

His chief anxiety was how he should start the school 
and carry it on with a decent measure of success. He 
thought of his big and probably unruly scholars, not a 


THE CURRICULUM 33 

few of whom would be young women of from seventeen 
to one and twenty, and young cornstalks in their teens, 
som8 as tall, or taller, than himself. 

“ I’ve got myself into a pretty mess this time, and 
no mistake,” he said; and then he laughed at the 
grotesqueness of the whole situation, laughed until his 
pipe went out and an owl hooted at him, somewhere 
from the surrounding bush. 

This startled him for a moment, for it was a well- 
known signal among outlaws; but having satisfied him- 
self that this was only the ill-omened hoot of a bird, 
he returned and sat down on the log again. 

It was one of those still, soft, dreamy nights, which, 
in the moonlight of a voluptuous Australian summer, 
inclines to thought, and awakens memories which live 
below the surface thoughts of ordinary life. 

Salathiel had no regret that he had wrested freedom 
from the hands of a hard fate, even at the price of 
outlawry; it was something to breathe that unfettered 
air and feel himself his own master. And, before we 
condemn this man too severely, we should remember 
that the whole atmosphere of his life, for many years, 
had been tainted by his surroundings ; for in those days 
the Bush morals of Australia were crude and lax. 
Vast areas of country, called “runs,” were unfenced; 
might was mostly right ; and the ownership of the great 
herds of cattle which roamed the grassy wastes a matter 
of perpetual give-and-take among the squatters. Acts 
which in these days would send men to prison were 
winked at as smart and clever, if the perpetrators were 
only high enough up the social ladder. With not a 
few, it was understood that beef killed for station pur- 
poses should, as a rule, bear some other man’s brand. 


THE OUTLAW 


34 

A squatter, dining with a neighbour, would be hos- 
pitably urged to take another helping from a juicy 
sirloin which, he well knew, was cut from one of his 
own prime beasts; and he retorted upon his neighbour 
by the simple plan of doing as he was done by. 

It is not to be wondered at that the rights of prop- 
erty were lightly regarded by so many of the convict 
servants of the squatters; or that bushranging was re- 
sorted to by desperate men, and bushrangers so gener- 
ally protected by those who indirectly or otherwise 
benefited by their robberies. Salathiel, however, was 
much above the ordinary class of outlaws, and sitting 
on that log, he struck a train of thought which carried 
him far away from the valley farms and his present 
grotesque surroundings. His father was of Jewish 
parentage, married to an educated woman of Gentile 
blood. He was now a man of wealth and social posi- 
tion in Sydney, although the bar sinister was on the 
family escutcheon, for, through a trivial offence in boy- 
hood, the elder Salathiel had been a “ convict once.” 
Sorrow had, however, sweetened and purified his fa- 
ther’s life, and sitting there, Salathiel recalled the 
early teachings of his mother and the refined surround- 
ings of his father’s household. Like many another 
convict, he had had a good education and pious train- 
ing; but in a weak hour of temptation he had brought 
himself within the clutches of a pitiless law, too often, 
in those hard days, administered to first offenders — es- 
pecially if they were the children of one-time convicts — 
without being tempered by mercy. He had worked for 
twelve months with a road gang in irons; and truly 
Fate seemed doggedly against him, for, after getting out 
of the chain gang, through an intrepid act of bravery, 


THE CURRICULUM 35 

by which, at great personal risi , he saved a soldier’s 
life, he fell into the hands of a \ ard, exacting master, 
who, on frivolous pretences, so that he might retain his 
services the longer, prevented him 1,‘om getting his good 
conduct ticket. Soured and dispirited, he was then as- 
signed to the owner of Eurimbla station, where he had, 
several times, contemplated suicide ; hut his early teach- 
ing saved him, and he plodded along at his work, until 
he was ultimately promoted to assist the bookkeeper. 
To escape a threatened flogging he had taken to the 
Bush ; and yet he would have given much that night, 
hardened as he was, if he could have redeemed the past, 
even to settle down amid the simple-minded people liv- 
ing around the Bluff. 

It was arranged that on the following Saturday there 
should be a formal opening of the school and welcome 
to the new teacher. A local magistrate was to preside, 
and Jack had been asked by the Committee to give a 
short address upon “ Education,” and intimate the lines 
upon which he proposed to conduct the school. 

“ Let me see,” thought J ack, “ I shall have to teach 
reading and spelling, writing and arithmetic, history 
and geography, grammar and singing. I might intro- 
duce drill, dancing, and deportment. By the way, 
some instruction in shooting might not be out of place 
for the elder boys. Oh,” he exclaimed, “ I am forget- 
ting Scripture lessons, which that old sinner, Donald 
Macpherson, lays so much stress upon. Yes, I could 
even teach that, without being any more of a hypocrite 
and a humbug than are scores of present-day parsons. 
They won’t want Euclid, algebra, or drawing, while I 
am here, at any rate ; and as for languages, they are out- 
side the curriculum of Elementary Schools. I must 


thj: outlaw 


36 

look over those book? Bennett gave me, and then, I 
think, I can start wb lout fear of local criticism or the 
chance of the beggars tripping me up.” 

His thoughts w nt back to Bennett again, u Oh, 
there’s no fear ! He’ll never ‘ come it ’ on me,” he 
said, and laughed. 

Salathiel had made the acquaintance of the school- 
master at a Bush hotel, where the outlaws of the dis- 
trict could always count on a welcome, and friendly 
warning if necessary. Men of Bennett’s profession 
were frequently addicted to periodical bouts of drink- 
ing, nor is it much to be wondered at, in the then state 
of things. The life of a Bush school-teacher was lonely 
and monotonous, and the surroundings were mostly un- 
congenial to an educated man. Many of them had 
taken to the life under a cloud, and drink w’as their 
nepenthe. 

Jack had taken to Bennett on their first meeting, for 
he soon found out that there was a good deal in common 
between them ; and as Bennett was teaching on a neigh- 
bouring station, they not infrequently met, and wfith 
pipe and glass and talk of other scenes and days, be- 
guiled the hours of night. On one of these occasions, 
Bennett told Salathiel of the offer he had, to go to the 
south coast district to take charge of a new school, and 
it was then it occurred to the bushranger to personate 
him and carry out a certain matter which he had long 
planned to accomplish. 

So, on the assurance of good behaviour, and also on 
the payment of a substantial consideration, which was 
a windfall to the needy schoolmaster, he had got Ben- 
nett to agree to the deception. Schoolmasters were 
scarce, and it turned out that Bennett had the choice of 


THE CURRICULUM 


37 

another situation on a western run, so he took the 
money, and giving out that he was going south, went 
west, under an assumed name. There was very little 
risk in this for the schoolmaster, for in the Forties one 
name was as good as another in the case of a large por- 
tion of the free men of the Colony. 


CHAPTER VI 


WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS 

L ATE on the following night, Salathiel was again 
sitting in the school-house paddock, smoking in the 
bright moonlight, which seemed to saturate every object 
of the now familiar landscape, when his quick ear sud- 
denly caught the sound of a horse’s hoofs in the distance. 
Sound travels strangely far on some of those valley 
roads, owing to a hollow, or extended rock formation, 
below the subsoil. 

Looking at his watch, Jack saw that it was near mid- 
night. “ Some belated traveller on the Broadhaven 
main road,” he thought. “ A doctor, may be ” ; but he 
put up his pipe and pulled out a finely fashioned, dou- 
ble-barrelled pistol from an inside pocket. 

“ How conscience makes cowards of us all ! ” he said, 
as he stepped out of the school-house paddock upon the 
roadway, and put his ear to the ground. He listened 
intently for several minutes, with surprise amounting 
almost to consternation in his face. “ A trooper’s 
horse,” he whispered, “ and he’s turned off the main 
road, on to the track which passes the school-house. 
Good thing I’ve got Fleetfoot handy and know the lay 
of the back country ; but it is impossible that I can have 
been tracked down here. Absolutely impossible ! I’m 
John Bennett, and the whole Colony knows that Jack 
38 


WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS 39 

Salathiel is hiding somewhere in the Northern Ranges. 
It’s too soon to he the Lieutenant ! ” 

He w r alked quickly over to the teacher’s residence, 
and locking the door, disappeared amid the deep Bush 
shadows which the slanting moonbeams made darker by 
contrast. 

For another ten minutes the sound of the tramping 
horse-hoofs drew nearer, and then ceased. Several min- 
utes of absolute silence followed. Then, within a short 
distance of the school, the melancholy call of a mopoke 
was heard, which was shortly answered by a similar cry 
from the bush behind the school-house. 

The call was twice repeated, and almost directly after- 
wards a tall stranger, leading a horse, took down the 
school paddock slip-rails, and was met by Salathiel. 

“ You’re earlier by a week than I expected ! ” was 
the bushranger’s greeting to a distinguished-looking 
man in an undress military uniform. 

“ Yes, we must look sharp, for I must be off again 
within the hour. I suppose I shall have to ride over 
again in about a fortnight. . . . Well,” said the new- 
comer, as he looked at the rough furniture of the room, 
and laughed. “ I got your letter. How are you get- 
ting on with your pupils ? ” 

“ Not started school yet,” replied Jack, who seemed 
ill at ease as his visitor seated himself. “ Major 
Browne, of the Broadhaven estate, presides at the school 
opening on Saturday. I suppose they have no inkling 
in Sydney of my whereabouts ? ” 

“ You were a fool to flog McBurton,” said the visitor, 
without replying to Jack’s question. “ There was 
nothing in it. Could you not have come down here 
quietly, without stirring up a hornets’ nest like that ? 


THE OUTLAW 


40 

Remember, if you’re taken, I can’t protect you. I run 
some risk of being suspected as it is ; but you were al- 
ways a stiff-necked fellow over matters of conscience, 
even when we were at school together. You’re safe 
enough, here at present ; but what you expected to gain 
by flogging McBurton I can’t think. You even paid 
for the drinks you had there, they tell me.” 

“ It served him right and was a wholesome lesson to 
other brutes like him,” replied Jack. 

“ Oh, I don’t dispute that ; but there’s nothing in it ! 
If you had cleared off with a couple of thousand, it 
might have been worth whila Mind, however, that you 
don’t make a mess of things down here. Captain 
Moore was asking me something about you the other 
day, and made a suggestion, which, I can tell you, I re- 
sented. I believe he knows that we have to get your 
signature to the documents, for he offered me one of 
these little toys, and asked me to fake up an appointment 
with you somewhere, and blow your brains out ! ” 

Jack picked up a small pocket revolver, which his 
visitor had placed on the table, and examined it curi- 
ously; it had been newly invented, and this was one of 
a small parcel which had recently reached Sydney. 
u Pretty toy, isn’t it ? ” said the visitor ; “ six chambers, 
and a death warrant in each. The Captain carries one 
in his breeches pocket; I’ll See if I can’t get you one 
later ! ” 

“ So Moore told you to blow my brains out while I 
was signing my name to a document, did he ? ” said 
Jack. 

“ Yes, I ordered him out of the house, and told him 
to do his own murders. Oh, he’s a daisy ! I was sorry 
afterwards that I crossed him, for he sent around to 


WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS 41 

your old father out of sheer spite, and made him go up 
King Street and report himself at headquarters as an 
ex-convict. And, what do you think ? your father had 
the carriage out, with coachman and footman, and 
drove up in evening dress ! Moore damned him to his 
face, for what he called his impertinence. He’ll be 
shot some day.” 

“ He will so,” said Salathiel bitterly, “ unless I get 
hold of him first, in which case he will be hanged.” 

“ Ah well, hang him and welcome, if you get the 
chance. Men such as he in office only make criminals, 
but don’t complicate things by any fool’s tricks down 
here. My advice to you is to keep quiet and, as soon 
as possible, get out of the country. But come, the 
night’s passing, and I must get a good few miles away 
from this before the moon goes down ; let’s get to busi- 
ness.” 

There followed in low tones an earnest conversation 
between the two men, in which Salathiel’s sister was 
several times mentioned, and such words as bank, police, 
government, and documents, might have frequently been 
heard. The stranger seemed to be urging Salathiel to 
some course of which the bushranger disapproved. 
However, Jack signed his name to a paper; but strong 
language was used, more than once, by both men, and 
the mysterious visitor even used veiled threats, which 
the bushranger evidently resented. 

It was more than an hour before the Lieutenant 
mounted his horse and rode away; but the two men 
shook hands as they parted. 

When Salathiel at last threw himself upon his bed to 
snatch a few hours’ sleep, a strange thing happened to 
him. It seemed to his excited brain more like a vision 


4 2 THE OUTLAW 

than a dream. He was a youth again, and from a plain 
in front of him there arose three green hills. One of 
them was crowned with a great palace, and in its sump- 
tuous halls was a throne of gold, and on the throne a 
king of evil visage. 

“ I am lord of this world,” he heard him say ; “ bow 
down and worship me, and riches, and power, and hon- 
our shall be thine.” He saw the vast hall thronged 
with willing worshippers, and by many paths multi- 
tudes hastened upwards, to render the dark visaged 
world-king homage; but he himself passed by, and he 
felt thankful. 

Around the central hill darkness had gathered, and 
when it was illumined for a moment by a flash of light- 
ning he saw upon the summit a cross, and upon it hung 
a Man of countenance marred, but of strange, ineffable 
love and sweetness. And on the storm-wind was borne 
a voice, which called his name. He saw himself pause 
at the foot of the hill, as though hesitating. It was but 
for a moment, however, and then, alas! he passed on 
toward the third hill, with hurried stride. 

On the summit of this was spread a garden of won- 
drous beauty and loveliness, bathed in soft sunlight; 
and in the midst of its verdant foliage, and brilliant 
flowers, and luscious fruits, was a fragrant bower, 
where, in silken robes, there reclined a fair woman. 
He started, for the beautiful face and eyes and wavy 
hair were familiar to him. Then he saw himself, in 
the pride of early manhood, pass in and kneel before 
her, and lo! he was garbed in convict dress, and he 
thought that he shaped his lips to curse her; but as he 
did so, the vision faded, 


WHEELS WITHIN WHEELS 43 

Evidently more was meant than appeared on the 
surface, when the schoolmaster, speaking of Salathiel, 
told the girls at Poddy Carey’s how the Evil One first 
lures, then leads, and last of all, drives* 


CHAPTER VII 


A SCHOOL FEAST IN' THE FORTIES 

T HERE was not a farm for ten miles around the 
Bluff that was not astir earlier than usual, on the 
Saturday following the arrival of the new schoolmas- 
ter. 

The school opening was to be made a great affair. 
Major Browne, who owned the big estate at Broad- 
haven, was to preside, Tot Gardiner was going to sing. 
Amos Gordon, the local preacher, and Mr. Bennett were 
to he among the speakers. There was to be a great 
luncheon before the meeting, and an impromptu dance 
and concert in the evening ; and already, on every side, 
Mr. Bennett was a much talked of man. 

It had all been arranged by the Committee a week 
before ; Bothered Shawn, the shepherd fiddler, and 
Jack Haynes, with his flute, and Craig Dixon’s omni- 
present concertina, had all been bespoken. It had even 
been informally agreed that the night milking should 
be omitted for once, so that young and old alike might 
fittingly commemorate the introduction of school-teach- 
ing into the Broadhaven Valley. 

The supply of food was prodigious. Every settler 
had baked something for the school feast Major 
Browne had killed a prime bullock, from w T hich to cut 
huge rounds of spiced beef. The Lords, not to be out- 
done, were sending some prime hams, of Mrs. Lord’s 
44 


A SCHOOL FEAST IN THE FORTIES 45 

famous curing. Mrs. Carey, in addition to bread and 
cakes, had sent half a keg of butter, and a big cheese, 
which was a great rarity. And other well-to-do settlers, 
catching the prevailing infection, had arranged to con- 
tribute substantially in kind. Bread and potatoes, 
scones and cakes, cape-gooseberries and wild strawberry 
tarts and pies were coming in from all quarters. Judy 
Gardiner said that the flowers and fruit would be im- 
mense. 

Never had the district cattle such a time as that morn- 
ing. They were hurried up to the yards by excited 
boys and girls, at earliest dawn, for branding and draft- 
ing, while the milk foamed into the buckets, as the girls 
hurried through their work, to be free to give a helping 
hand with the general preparations. Great hardwood 
logs had been cut for the fires behind the school-house, 
on which the huge iron boilers were to be placed, to boil 
the big floury potatoes and heat the water for the tea; 
and a heap of firewood had been gathered, which would 
last the schoolmaster for a month. People would cer- 
tainly be there from all quarters and long distances, on 
horseback, and by bullock dray, and on foot, so that the 
Committee decided that they would be all the better for 
a meal before the ceremony ; then a high tea was to fol- 
low, and what was left would make up a scratch supper 
for the dancers. 

Jack SaJathiel, or rather Mr. John Bennett, was 
fairly astounded when he heard of the magnitude of 
these preparations and the general enthusiasm. Young 
men and girls had, on the previous afternoon, taken 
possession of the school-house ; green boughs were 
dragged up for decorative purposes, and deft fingers 
had made rosettes and paper-flowers. A stuffed kanga- 


46 THE OUTLAW 

roo and emu had been placed over the doorway, draped 
with flags lent by the Major, and an extemporised flag- 
staff was set up in front of the school-house, on which 
the Eoyal Standard, also kindly lent by the Major, was 
to be unfurled. 

The long shed for the horses was extended with a 
frame of saplings and roofed in with tarpaulins. This 
was also transformed by greenery into a capacious 
bower, where the food was to be served from several 
tables. 

By noon, the first arrivals, mostly from a long dis- 
tance, were on the ground, each one with some good 
thing to augment the general store ; and when grace w T as 
said by Amos Gordon, at one o’clock precisely, there 
were fully two hundred people, old and young, present 
to partake of the good things provided. 

Bothered Shawn and his fellow-musicians had been 
regaled beforehand, so that they could discourse music 
to the company while they ate. “ Never saw such a 
splendacious spread, even in the old country,” said 
Bothered Shawn to Craig Dixon; and the latter, with 
half a big ham sandwich in his mouth, cordially agreed. 

The size of the gathering took every one by surprise, 
especially the schoolmaster. Jack had no idea how so 
many people could possibly have been got together in 
such a place; but Major Browne attributed it to the 
effect of the recent bounty system of immigration, by 
which some thousands of new-comers were every year 
being brought into the Colony. 

The men not employed with the preparations sat 
about on fallen logs and on the lower rail of the fence, 
gazing a trifle dazedly upon the unaccustomed scene. 
In one corner an impromptu wrestling match was going 


A SCHOOL FEAST IN THE FORTIES 47 

on among the youngsters. A great cluster of gaily- 
dressed girls had gathered near the booth; while the 
schoolmaster, sprucely attired, with a high collar and 
black stock, flowered waistcoat and dark coat and trou- 
sers, moved to and fro among the visitors. 

Betsy Carey had told her sister Alice that morning 
while they were milking, that Mr. Bennett would, with- 
out doubt, be the handsomest and best dressed man of 
the whole crowd, and her anticipations had proved cor- 
iect. It was plain that he was winning favour with the 
people, the young folk especially; he had the softness 
and deliberateness of speech which usually accompanies 
education, and had told a committee-man that his peo- 
ple were of good family — presumably, of course, in 
England. 

When the big bullock bell rang for luncheon, Jack 
was talking with Major Browne under the flag, which, 
from the summit of a tall sapling, fluttered languidly 
above the animated scene. 

“ You’ll find the district a bit rough, Mr. Bennett,” 
the Major was saying, “ but, bless me ” — looking 
around on the people — “ it’s evidently growing. 
There’s a fine agricultural country here, and although 
there is not much money in circulation, the settlers do 
well with their crops and cattle. You’ll find it a bit 
lonesome, perhaps, after school hours, but I’ll be glad 
to see you at the station occasionally, and there are some 
good men on the Committee and in the neighbourhood, 
and they’ll look after you, no doubt. I suppose you 
have drawn up a bit of a programme for the ceremony. 
I’m not much of a speaker myself.” 

The programme arranged by the Committee and 
copied out in Jack’s neat handwriting was shown to 


THE OUTLAW 


48 

the Major, who signified his approval, and they passed 
in together to where luncheon awaited them. 

Jack had treated himself to a partial shave, and 
allowed his dark curly hair to grow to a length which 
seemed to him becoming in a school-teacher. It would 
have been difficult for any ordinary observer, even if he 
had occasionally met him before, to identify the spruce 
schoolmaster with John Joseph Salathiel 18 — No. B. 
473. He had looked most carefully over the assem- 
blage, and keenly watched for every new arrival, going 
up and cordially shaking him by the hand, as he intro- 
duced himself ; but he could recognise no one, and with 
a growing sense of security, he threw off his reserve 
and joked with the girls, and talked cattle and crops and 
horse-flesh to the men, and primary education to the 
elders of both sexes, to the open admiration of the School 
Committee. 

His great anxiety had been Major Browne; but he 
found to his intense satisfaction that this gentleman 
had only once been through Maitland, and then some 
time before his assignment to Eurimbla. He was a kind 
and intelligent man; and as one of the few employers 
of convict servants in the district and the largest local 
landowner, was looked up to and treated with great 
deference and respect. It was regarded by the Com- 
mittee as a triumph when he consented to preside over 
the school opening, and they were delighted when they 
heard before the meeting that, in conversation with 
Mr. Gordon, he had expressed a dignified approval of 
their selection of Mr. John Bennett as schoolmaster. 

It was an hour and a half before the feasting was 
over and the people had settled themselves in and around 
the school-house for the inaugural ceremony. The 


A SCHOOL FEAST IN THE FORTIES 49 

building was lofty and fairly capacious, and had been 
built of sawn slabs, on the model of one of the settlers’ 
big barns. It contained only one glass window (at the 
southern end), below which the teacher’s desk had been 
erected on a small platform. A corresponding open- 
ing (but larger) with a shutter faced the north, with 
the doorway and two openings on the west, while three 
similarly shuttered open squares let in light from the 
east. The building was roofed with hard wood shin- 
gles, and was surrounded on all four sides by a broad 
verandah, roofed with the same material. On the 
beaten earth floor, strong forms without backs were ar- 
ranged on either side, leaving a broad aisle up the cen- 
tre. 

A few wooden chairs, which were placed in front, 
had been borrowed to accommodate the performers and 
singers and some of the better class visitors. But, in 
the excitement of the hour, these, to the dismay of the 
Committee, had been occupied by some way-back 
mothers and their children, who had hastened over din- 
ner in order to secure good seats. It could not be 
helped, for the place was now full, and more room had 
to be made on and around the platform. A crowd of 
men and boys stood at the back, and clusters of others 
occupied the open window spaces. 

Major Browne was evidently nervous as he gazed 
around through his gold eye glasses upon the company; 
but good temper was written upon all faces, and it was 
plain that the people intended to enjoy themselves, with- 
out undue criticism of the performance. 

The schoolmaster had been placed on the right hand 
of the chairman, and the secretary of the School Com- 
mittee, Mr. Silas Stump, on the left, while around 


THE OUTLAW 


So 

them were seated other members of the Committee with 
Amos Gordon, the local preacher, whose fine, genial old 
countenance was known and revered for many a mile 
around the coastal districts. He had been cracking 
some joke with a committee-man; and it was pleasant 
to hear the old man laugh and see him rub his hands 
together appreciatively. 

“ Old Preacher Gordon will make a funny speech,” 
whispered Tot Gardiner to Betsy Carey, “you see if 
he doesn’t ; he ate a great dinner and drank half a 
bucket of tea ; he’s feeling in great form, you bet ! ” 

Betsy nudged her to keep quiet, for an awkward si- 
lence had come over the place; the chairman seemed 
to be waiting for something. Just then Bothered 
Shawn put a finishing touch to the tuning of his fiddle, 
to the frantic amusement of some cornstalks standing in 
the rear. 

Silas Stump now whispered something to the chair- 
man, and Major Browne immediately rose. A few of 
the Committee clapped their hands; but the audience 
generally were new to the business and waited for the 
speaker to proceed. 

“ Neighbours and friends,” the Major began, “ I am 
pleased to meet you all and to preside at the inaugura- 
tion of the first school opened in the district. This 
large gathering is one of the best proofs of the want of 
a school such as is about to be established. I congratu- 
late you on the pleasant surroundings of this auspicious 
occasion. We have a fine day, abundant provision made 
for the inner man, and good appetites to enjoy it. The 
School Committee, by whose laudable exertions and 
your generous co-operation this spacious school-house 
has been put up, are to be congratulated.” (At this 


A SCHOOL FEAST IN THE FORTIES 51 

there was a burst of cheering. ) “ They deserve well of 

the Broadhaven district.” (Renewed cheering.) 

“ I am glad also to meet with your new schoolmaster, 
Mr. John Bennett, who is apparently well fitted to dis- 
charge the important duties which will devolve upon 
him.” (The cheering at this was louder than before.) 
“ I ask you to assist him in his work by sending your 
children punctually and regularly to school, upholding 
his authority and discipline, and showing yourselves in- 
terested in the children’s studies.” 

“ Hear, hear ! ” cried Bob Blake, who had better 
have kept quiet, for he had a most unruly crowd of 
youngsters. 

“ Mr. Bennett will address you later on, upon the im- 
portance of education, so I need not dwell upon that. 
We have had the addition of a number of new settlers 
lately ; we wish to see the children growing up with an 
intelligent knowledge of reading, writing, and arithme- 
tic, for which they will be the better in every way. The 
sight of the large number of young people and children 
here to-day is an astonishment to me. There is evi- 
dently work here for the schoolmaster. I congratulate 
you on your choice, and now formally declare this school- 
house open for the purposes of instruction. I shall be 
pleased 1 to give five guineas to the school funds, for 
prizes and so forth each year.” 

The Major sat down, wiping his perspiring face 
with a large silk handkerchief, and a committee-man, 
leading off the applause, audibly declared that the chair- 
man had done famously. 

“ Mr. Shawn will now favour us with a violin solo,” 
said the chairman. At this moment a clatter of horses’ 
hoofs was heard outside, and some of the verandah on- 


THE OUTLAW 


52 

lookers suddenly vacated the windows. Salathiel 
started slightly and turned pale. “ Supposing that he 
should be arrested by the police in the midst of such a 
scene as this,” he thought But he would sell his life 
dearly, and he felt for the small double-barrelled pistol 
which he always carried loaded in a side-pocket. 

There was no cause for apprehension, however, for 
the commotion was only made by some late arrivals; 
and Bothered Shawn rendered a familiar air, with va- 
riations, accompanied by a flute. 

Mr. Silas Stump was now called upon to speak on be- 
half of the Committee. 

“ Major Browne, friends and narbours,” he com- 
menced. 

“ Cut it short, Stumpy,” called out a red-headed 
youngster from the back row. 

Silas made a long pause, and glared threateningly 
at the youth, but wisely refrained from further notice 
of the interruption. He knew that for various reasons 
he was not popular with a section of the audience ; but 
he mentally resolved that the couple of long canes he 
had provided for the use of the schoolmaster would, by 
some means or other, make the acquaintance of Mick 
Cassidy’s person at a very early date. 

He commenced again, speaking less correctly in his 
perturbed condition. “ Mister Cheerman, friens and 
narbours, the Committee of this ’ere school don me the 
honour of appointing me their secretary — ” 

“ ’Ear, ’ear ! ” called out a committee-man as Silas 
paused, and looked around upon the smiling audience 
with a bewildered stare. 

“ Hitch up yer team, mon, and make a start,” called 


A SCHOOL FEAST IN THE FORTIES 53 

out a gruff, but good-natured voice from one of the win- 
dows. There was general laughter at this sally. 

“ Oh, dash it, these ’ere interruptions ’ev put out o’ 
me ’ed what I had to say ! 99 

“ Order please, order !” called out the Major, look- 
ing sternly toward the ceiling at the end of the building. 

Silas Stump was a squat, fussy, boastful little man, 
who could talk glibly enough about old times and of 
his powers of speech, and how he had carried off the 
laurels at political meetings before coming to the Colony. 
He had confidentially informed the Committee that he 
intended to make a great oration at the school opening, 
and they had, one and all, relied upon him; but at the 
critical moment his wits went wool-gathering. He was 
completely floored, for after twice repeating his former 
observation about having been appointed secretary, he 
sat down in confusion. 

The Major rose with dignity, and made matters worse 
by apologising for the secretary’s embarrassment, say- 
ing that Mr. Stump was, no doubt, unused to public 
speaking. 

Miss Tot Gardiner was now called upon for a song, 
which proved to be the vocal success of the day and was 
enthusiastically encored. She gave a Scotch melody for 
her first number, and “ Molly Darling ” as an encore ; 
and complete harmony and good feeling were re-estab- 
lished when the chairman called upon Mr. Amos Gor- 
don to say a few words. 

The sight of Gordon’s tall, venerable form rearing 
itself upon the platform was the signal for general and 
hearty applause. He had been known for years in 
the Broadhaven district for his good deeds and kindly 


THE OUTLAW 


54 

disposition. He liad nursed Tom Robertson through 
the crisis of an infectious fever and saved Mrs. Daniell’s 
baby boy when dying with croup. He was about the 
only man on the country-side whom Tot Gardiner had a 
good word for, although he had once given her the 
roughest quarter of an hour’s talking to she ever had in 
her life. When it was known that the old man had 
met with an accident and was missing in the big scrub, 
the whole male population had turned out in quest of 
him. They called him “ Old Father Gordon”; but 
whether he was Episcopalian, or Presbyterian, or Meth- 
odist, no one seemed to know or care. In the hearts of 
hundreds, the old man had rescued the very name of re- 
ligion from reproach and contempt. He was the dis- 
penser of charity in its broadest sense, and usually set 
out upon his itinerant wanderings with a little hoard of 
holey dollars and dumps 1 in his swag, to be given away 
discreetly in his journey. There was nothing strait- 
laced about him ; he would drink a pannican of tea with 
a stockman, while he read a verse from his Bible — and 
ere he left him with a benediction, would, likely 
enough, get him down upon his knees while he prayed. 

He was a white man every inch of him, and as sim- 
ple and kind-hearted as a child. He stood for a full 
minute smiling around on his expectant audience, most 
of whom he knew by their most familiar names. 

“ It’s a great day for yer, my friends,” he com- 
menced, and there were tears in the old man’s eyes as 
he looked around with kindly sympathy. “ The rich 
and the poor have met together,” and he looked first at 

1 Through scarcity of small change in the Colony, the silver 
dollar had a round piece stamped out of it; it was then called a 
M holey dollar,” and the piece taken out of it a “ dump.” 


A SCHOOL FEAST IN THE FORTIES 55 

the Major, and then over at Widow McCarthy, whose 
little holding had been ploughed and sown, with neigh- 
bourly assistance, when her drunken husband died a 
year before, leaving her and the children nearly desti- 
tute. “ And ye’ve all come together good heartedly to 
give the school for the children a start. I’ve eaten some 
of the Major’s beef and Andy Elannigan’s pertaters, 
and drunk of Mrs. Carey’s brew of tea, and I’m proud 
of ye, friends ; for the young ones ought not to grow up 
in ignorance, and ye’ve done well to build your school- 
house and get a teacher. I hope ye’ll find him a good 
sort of a man, a man of learning and discretion, and a 
man after God’s own heart, among you. Yer can’t do 
without salt with yer food, friends ; and what you want 
in the Broadhaven district is a bit of the salt of educa- 
tion, and the love and fear of the good God. And good 
salt well rubbed in makes prime bacon. Yer jewels, me 
friends, and so are the children; but least ye should 
think I’m for flattering ye, let me tell ye, yer only jew- 
els in the rough. Ye heard my young friend, Tot 
Gardiner, sing just now — ” 

At this Tot’s rosy cheeks blushed a deeper hue, as all 
eyes turned upon her with smiling approval. 

“ She’s a gran’ singer is my young friend, but she’s 
been taught a bit, and if she were taught more, she’d 
have a voice a queen might envy. I hear some of ye 
don’t set much store by education ; but it’s a gran’ thing 
when you know about it. Them big floury pertaters 
we’ve been eating were educated pertaters, and so was 
the beef, and the ham, and the cakes and tarts. Now 
ye’re laughing at an old man ; but I’ll make it plain to 

y e - 

“ Take a bit of a bush flower which you call a weed. 


THE OUTLAW 


56 

It’s naturally small, and pale, and insignificant, and 
hasn’t much smell; but dig a loamy bit of ground for 
it, transplant it, prune and train it, manure and water 
it, and you develop it, so that you would not know it 
for the same ; it becomes larger in growth, richer in col- 
our, more fragrant in odour, and you have a beautiful 
garden flower. 

“ You kick a peehle on the road-side, and pick it up 
and look at it; there’s nothing about it that’s fine or 
sparkling ; but grind off the dull outer crust, place it in 
the hands of a man who knows how to rid it of its rough 
rind, and develop its God-given beauty, and you have a 
flashing jewel, to sparkle in the diadem of a king. 

“ And listen to me, children, get all you can 
out of your school and your schoolmaster. It won’t 
always he easy perhaps, but a bit of learning will 
make you better men and bonnier women. When you 
are married you won’t have to make a cross against your 
names, and you will he able to read good hooks, and 
write letters to your friends, and make a proper reckon- 
ing of what you earn on your farms. The man that 
knows is always master of the man that doesn’t; and 
you won’t have to gad through the world ashamed of 
your ignorance, hut will be able to hold your heads erect 
as the good Lord intended us to. God bless you all, my 
friends, and your schoolmaster ; and don’t yer lift your 
heads too high when ye come to know a hit of learning ; 
and boys and girls, don’t look down upon your parents 
when you can read and write, because, maybe, they 
can’t. They have done a good and gracious thing for 
your welfare in establishing this school. It’s a good 
word in the Old Book which says : ‘ Honour thy 


A SCHOOL FEAST IN THE FORTIES 57 

father and thy mother, that thy days may be long in the 
land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.’ ” 

More singing followed, and then the chairman said: 
“ Mr. J ohn Bennett, the new schoolmaster, will now 
address you.” 

J ack had been sitting in a chair, behind the previous 
speaker, with his face buried in his hands. Old Gor- 
don’s speech had simply broken him up, and when at 
last he arose, after a prolonged burst of applause had 
subsided, he was evidently ill at ease. His easy air of 
self-satisfaction and confidence in his own powers had 
vanished; he mumbled out a few words of thanks, 
promising to do his best while he stayed with them, and 
then abruptly sat down, and again hid his face in his 
hands. 

It was a surprise to every one, and simply staggered 
the Committee. There was much whispering among 
the people. A committee-man went over and asked him 
if he was feeling well, and old Gordon put his hand 
kindly upon his shoulder, and said: “ Never mind, 
schoolmaster, a man may teach school well without be- 
ing a ready public speaker. You would have done bet- 
ter to have written down and read what you had to say.” 

All pitied him, for he had lost a splendid chance of 
making a good impression upon the community ; but no 
one guessed that it was his heart that had failed him, 
and not his head, nor his tongue. 

Soon afterwards began the games and dancing on the 
grass in the school-house paddock. Jack stifled his 
feelings and soon became himself again. The women 
said if he could only speak as well as he could dance, he 
would do well enough. But, after tea, he did much to 
restore himself to general public favour, for in a witty 


THE OUTLAW 


58 

little speech, he apologised for having allowed his feel- 
ings to overcome him earlier in the day, and borrowing 
the flute from Jack Haynes, he offered to give them a 
solo on that instrument. He was a flautist of no com- 
mon order, and as he played, they all forgave him for 
what beforehand some of them had called his spoiling of 
the opening of the school. 

Said Mrs. Carey to her husband afterward : “ What- 

ever could have upset him so at the meeting ? ” Poddy 
did not answer her, except with a shrug of his big shoul- 
ders ; but he thought to himself. “ He’s got some bad 
thing hidden away somewhere in his life. I wonder if 
he was once a convict ! ” 


CHAPTER VIII 


A CURIOUS STUDY FOR A PHILOSOPHER 

T HE school had been opened a week, and Salathiel 
had so far succeeded, in his role of school-teacher, 
as to have won favourable opinions from both parents 
and School Committee. 

There had been difficulty, at first, in getting the 
younger children to attend, for they were a shy hoddy- 
doddy crowd, and so unused to strangers that, rough 
and boisterous as most of them were at home, they were 
as wild and frightened as newly captured brumbies 1 
in the presence of a stranger. 

Jack, however, set himself to master the novel situa- 
tion. There would be no flogging in the school, he an- 
nounced, except in cases of absolute defiance, and then 
he would not be answerable for what he might do. He 
made this statement with a smiling face and in a tone 
of masterful self-confidence, which, in view of his 
height and strength of limb, was listened to respectfully, 
even by Bob Carey and Mick Cassidy. 

Silas Stump had seen to the furnishing of instru- 
ments of punishment for the schoolmaster’s use, but 
Jack tied them together with the lash of a stock-whip, 
and hung them on a nail over his teacher’s platform, 
out of reach of any adventurous scholars. 

They were there, however; but Jack determined, so 

l The wild horse of Australia. 

59 


6o 


THE OUTLAW 


far as lie was concerned, that there they should remain. 
For the time being, his whole mind seemed bent only on 
winning the respect and affection of these girls and 
boys, and he made his plans and marshalled his forces 
as carefully as he would have done had he been pre- 
paring a raid upon a wealthy station, or the robbery of 
a mail coach. The love of praise and esteem of others 
was strong in him, and he craved for the kind regard of 
the motley crowd which now confronted him every day. 

He borrowed an old flute from a settler, and after 
putting it in repair, taught the children to sing “ Home, 
Sweet Home ” and other popular melodies. Occa- 
sionally, when attention flagged, he would take his 
scholars out into the school paddock and drill them, or 
charm them with a solo on the flute, or a pleasant talk 
about the habits of the Bush animals with which they 
were familiar. 

He divided his scholars into four grades to start with : 
the boys under fifteen and those above that age, and the 
girls under fourteen and those older, and he found that 
the latter was the largest class in the school. Betsy 
Carey, after some persuasion, was made school-monitor 
and put over the younger class of boys, while Tot Gar- 
diner was put in charge of the younger girls. He ex- 
amined them as to their proficiency in the three B’s, and 
set Kitty Conroy to teach the most backward pupils 
their A B C’s under an outside verandah. 

On the whole, things were going well, and Jack began 
to congratulate himself upon having surmounted his first 
difficulties, when one day the aspect of affairs was sud- 
denly altered. There was an old feud between the 
Lords and the Careys, arising in the first instance about 
some land. The Lords had no dealings with the Careys. 


A CURIOUS STUDY 


61 


Mercy Lord, a delicate girl of about fourteen, was found 
by Jack to be bis best scholar; and it was perhaps im- 
possible for him not to show some preference. She had 
been well trained and taught by her mother, and pos- 
sessed intelligence above the average, so he would occa- 
sionally call her to the front, for the edification of the 
other scholars. The elder girls and boys, of course, 
took sides for and against the Lords and Careys; and 
Betsy Carey and Tot and J udy Gardiner were ringlead- 
ers in sundry acts of petty persecution against the child. 
This went on at first without Jack’s knowledge, but 
one morning, when he found her crying over an ink-be- 
smeared copy-book, his eyes were opened; and after 
school he heard from Mercy’s reluctant lips a story of 
ill-treatment by some of the older girls, which decidedly 
disturbed his mind. Mercy had to pass the Gardiners’ 
stockyard on her way home on her pony ; and that after- 
noon she was pelted with manure from the enclosure 
as she went by. 

Salathiel rode to Silas Stump’s that evening, and 
had a long talk with him. Major Browne was having 
a cedar table made for the teacher, and four desks 
for the more advanced scholars to write their copies 
upon. It gave Jack the opportunity he wanted to find 
out something more about the antecedents of the Lords 
and Careys, and the quarrel between the two families* 

• “ They hate each other like pisen, barring Mrs. 
Carey, an’ I don’t think it’s in her to hate any critter,” 
said Silas. He then enlarged, from his own stand- 
point, upon the old misunderstanding, which, originat- 
ing over land, had developed in connection with the 
branding of some calves, and had rankled, with grow- 
ing bitterness, up to the time of the building of the 


62 


THE OUTLAW 


school-house. Robert Lord had refused to act on the 
committee, because Poddy Carey was nominated; and 
they could not do without the latter, for several reasons, 
not the least of which was Mrs. Carey, who, as the wife 
of a committee-man, was in herself a host. 

Jack cautiously told Silas how the unpleasantness 
between the two families was affecting his school-work ; 
but soon found out that the secretary was on the side 
of the Careys. 

“ You’ve been a-showing off that girl Mercy a bit 
too much, schoolmaster,” he said bluntly. “ If I were 
you I’d i come it ’ on the boys with one of those canes 
to-morrow morning, and if Tot Gardiner smears copy- 
books, and throws mud at girls younger than herself, 
I’d hang a green hide calf-skin round her neck and 
make her stand out, and shame her before all the school. 
I’ll lend you one, mister, to take over with you ; it’s a 
bit strong, but that’ll make it all the better for punish- 
ment.” 

Jack smoked away in silence; he did not like the 
advice at all, and yet he knew well that, by some means, 
the discipline of the school would have to be main- 
tained. He had not heard before about the pelting of 
Mercy. But he knew that both Tot and Judy Gardi- 
ner would be rough material to handle, and he was 
concerned, too, as to how far Betsy might be impli- 
cated. This thought involved him in deeper perplex- 
ity; he could not help having a kindly feeling for 
Betsy; he had consulted her, as his first acquaintance 
and most intelligent co-worker, about the general man- 
agement of the school. He could not imagine her as 
an actual conspirator against his peace of mind and suc- 
cess as a teacher. She almost always brought a bunch 


A CURIOUS STUDY 63 

of freshly gathered flowers for the school table. So 
far, she had not once been absent, nor even late, and 
he regarded her as his chief lieutenant in the school 
management. He could not afford to lose her support 
and good will, and yet his whole nature rebelled against 
the jealous spite of the big girls against Mercy. 

He carried the green calf -skin back with him, how- 
ever, and determined to begin school on the following 
morning with a serious talk to the whole of the scholars. 
He might even make use of the calf-skin to punish some 
of the younger girls ; but he would sooner go away and 
return at once to his old wild, lawless life than lift his 
hand to flog the children. 

“Curse it all!” he ejaculated bitterly. “And I 
was getting along so well ; but I can’t flog them ! ” 

Salathiel’s mind as he rode homeward would have 
presented a curious ethical study for a philosopher. 
Here was a man, who had done violence to the law of 
the land, moralising over school discipline, and hesi- 
tating to enforce the law of his school, because he had 
beforetime been flogged unjustly when a convict. He 
would have thought little of felling one of his gang 
with a blow, or even shooting him for the safety of the 
rest; but amid those girls and boys, who looked up to 
him as something far better and worthier than he knew 
himself to be, he was a coward at heart. 

Hor was he sure yet of his feelings in regard to Betsy 
Carey. He had no place in his heart now — at least, 

so he told himself — for any woman’s love; but 

and that “ but ” was a very awkward thing just then for 
Jack to deal with. There were so many big “buts” 
about his life and surroundings. He would some- 
times, it is true, almost forget the old dead past amid 


THE OUTLAW 


64 

his present more wholesome environment. If only he 
could drag the hateful years up by the roots, and cast 
them out of his life for ever, he would gladly have done 
so; but he could not. He started now at unusual 
sounds in the Bush. In school, his heart would beat 
fast sometimes, although there was not a trooper within 
miles of him, and bushrangers in the Broadhaven dis- 
trict were only as legends of a far-off land. He still 
took every precaution for his easy escape and personal 
safety. Under his coat he always carried loaded fire- 
arms, and Fleetfoot was never very far away. 


CHAPTER IX 


TOT GARDINER HITS BACK 

W HEH J ack called the roll on the following morn- 
ing there was a large muster of scholars. The 
attendance was undoubtedly improving, the only nota- 
ble and unexplained absence being that of Mercy Lord. 
The schoolmaster, however, made no comment, but 
quietly read out, off the black-board, the school-song, 
and took his flute to lead the singing. 

Just then the school-house door was pushed open, 
and with a flushed face and excited demeanour, Mercy 
Lord entered, accompanied by her mother. 

Mrs. Robert Lord was a ladylike woman, of easy, 
independent carriage; but when excited, she had a 
shrill, voluble tongue. It was plain that she had come 
upon an unpleasant errand, and meant to have her say 
about it to the schoolmaster, probably in the presence 
of the scholars. 

“ Betsy, hand Mrs. Lord a chair,” said J ack, with- 
out giving the lady time to speak. 

Betsy frowned, and, with the greatest deliberation, 
did as she was told. 

“ Kindly take a seat, Mrs. Lord,” said the teacher, 
“ until we have sung the school opening song.” 

Mrs. Lord hesitated; she had not come there for 
either entertainment or instruction, she thought, but 
for the exaction of condign punishment upon those who 
65 


66 


THE OUTLAW 


had disturbed the peace of her family. Jack, how- 
ever, softly ran over the air of the song on his flute; so 
she sat down, Mercy standing by her side. 

The song happened to be an old one, which the 
scholars had practised frequently, and it was sung with, 
melodious heartiness. It was as follows : 

“ What were life without some one to cheer us 
With a word or a smile on our way, 

A friend who is faithfully near us. 

And heeds not what others may say? 

The bravest of spirits have often 
Half failed in the race that they ran, 

For a kind word life’s hardships to soften. 

Then say a kind word when you can.” 

The chorus, which was rendered fortissimo, ran as 
follows : 

“ Then say a kind word when you can. 

Oh ! say a kind word when you can, 

For a kind word life’s hardships may soften, 

Then say a kind word when you can, when you can.” 

Jack looked over his flute at Mrs. Lord and Mercy, 
wondering what would be the next development and 
fervently hoping that she would have time to cool down, 
and would not make a scene before the children, when 
a couple of childish voices repeated: 

“ When you can, when you can.” 

Some of the bigger girls laughed at this, and it 
seemed as though the whole school intuitively knew 
that Mrs. Lord’s presence boded no good to some one. 

The next verse followed more softly, but with 
deeper significance: 


TOT GARDINER HITS BACK 67 

“ Each one of us owns to some failing, 

Though some may have more than the rest. 

But there’s no good in needlessly railing 
’Gainst those who are striving their best! 

Remember a word spoke complaining 
May blight every effort and plan, 

Which a kind word wopld help in attaining, 

Then say a kind word when you can.” 

Again the chorus rolled out in shrill vehemence, and 
the childish voices echoed a second time to the closing 
refrain : 


“ When you can, when you can.” 

J ack still took observations over his flute, and 
thought he saw Mrs. Lord brush something out of the 
corner of her eye with her handkerchief, when she used 
that useful article avowedly for another purpose. 

The last verse followed : 

“ Oh, say a kind word then whenever 
’Twill make the heart cheerful and glad. 

But chiefly, forget it, oh never, 

To the one that is hopeless and sad; 

For there’s no word so easy in saying, 

So begin, if you never began 
And do not in life be delaying, 

To say a kind word when you can.” 

When the chorus had died away, Mrs. Lord sat 
quietly in her chair, waiting for the schoolmaster to 
come and speak to her. The song had evidently soothed 
the lady’s feelings, if it had done nothing more. 

“ I intended to say a few words to the whole school,” 
said Jack, struck by a sudden inspiration as he laid 
aside his flute, “ and although Mrs. Lord is evidently 
here in reference to the matter, I think it will be just 


68 


THE OUTLAW 


as well for me to speak to you as I intended whether 
any personal complaint was made to me or not. I 
have occasionally called my little friend Mercy Lord 
up before the school, and commended her work, and 
endeavoured to use her quickness of apprehension to 
help you to understand better what I had to teach you. 
In doing this, I only regarded the good of you all and 
did not think for a moment that it would cause any ill 
will towards Mercy, or jealousy on the part of any one. 
But, I regret to say, some of you have misunderstood 
me, and thought that I was unduly favouring Mercy. 
How I am here not to make favourites of any of you, 
but to teach you your lessons and do my best to make 
you learn them. I am deeply grieved to find, on ac- 
count of this, some of you have been jealous. Possibly 
you don’t know, but jealousy is a very poor and con- 
temptible thing for one person to harbour against 
another. But when it takes the form of petty, spiteful 
acts, such as the smearing of a neat copy-book with ink 
and the tearing of leaves out of lesson-books, it is still 
more contemptible and wicked, and for the sake of the 
school discipline must be punished. I am not going 
to ask now who did it ” 

“ Please, Mr. Bennett, it was Tot Gardiner,” piped 
out a juvenile voice. 

For a moment there was dead silence. An awful 
silence ! 

“ Yes,” called out Tot in a passion. “ I smeared 
the copy-book, but I’ll punch Mick Bromley’s head and 
give him a real lamming when school is over, for all 
that.” 

“ And throw mud at ’im, as yer did at Mercy as she 
went by yer stockyard yesterday afternoon,” yelled out 


TOT GARDINER HITS BACK 69 

a big cornstalk, who was an ardent supporter of the 
Lords and an admirer of Mercy. 

It was Mick Cassidy. Tot turned round upon him 
with flashing eyes, and throwing a lesson-book she held 
in her hand, struck him smartly across the face : “ you 
sneak, take that ! ” 

In a moment the whole school was in an uproar, and 
half the children rose to their feet. 

“ Sit down, all of you! ” thundered Jack above the 

din. 

u Tot Gardiner, go to the back form and sit down 
there at once.” 

“ I shan’t,” cried out Tot, “ and don’t you try to 
make me, Mr. Bennett ; what does that old frump want, 
coming here upsetting the school ? ” 

She pointed her finger at Mrs. Lord, who sat frown- 
ing and trembling with excitement. 

“ Sit down, Tot,” called out Jack, his face blazing 
with passion. “ I’ll thrash the first who dares to say 
another word.” 

“ Then you’ll have to thrash me,” yelled out Bob 
Carey, pulling off his coat as he spoke, and doubling 
his fists in a fighting attitude, as he ranged himself in 
front of Tot Gardiner. 

“ Yer big fool, you ! ” ejaculated Tot, hitting him no 
gentle cuff on the side of his head. 

Bob Carey was eighteen and, if anything, a trifle 
taller than the school teacher; he was broadly built, 
and those who had fought with him said that he was 
as hard as nails; but Jack’s blood was up, and spring- 
ing from his platform, he caught Bob by the neck, and 
dragging him by main force out upon the floor, stood 
him in front of his desk. Bob’s surprise, and the near- 


THE OUTLAW 


70 

ness of the schoolmaster’s person, for the moment pre- 
vented him from using his fists. But, with a great 
effort, he shook the teacher off him, and lifted his closed 
fist to strike. 

What might have happened it is hard to say; the 
girls screamed and the younger boys bellowed out in- 
coherently, when Betsy leaped over the desk in front 
of her and threw herself between her infuriated brother 
and the teacher. 

“ Go outside and cool yourself, you hot-headed 
boobv,” she ejaculated. “ Give the stupid boy his 
coat,” she shouted to Tot Gardiner, who picked it up 
and hurled it over the heads of the children at him. 

“ Get out of this, or I’ll tell your father and he can 
thrash you, you great fool. Do you think Mr. Bennett 
will teach you another thing after this ? And you can’t 
spell calf, or write a thing, you big, blustering igno- 
ramus.” 

Bob cooled down in a moment, and looked sheepishly 
at his sister. 

u Get out of the school, get out of the school,” she 
cried, pointing to the door. “ Do you think I’m going 
to have a brother of mine insulting and fighting with 
the schoolmaster? Go home and tell mother what a 
gawk you’ve made of yourself.” 

“ He’s not going to thrash Tot,” said Bob sullenly, 
shuffling off in the direction of the door. 

“ You great booby,” was all the reply the indignant 
girl vouchsafed him as he slung himself out. 

All this had occupied less time than it takes to relate, 
and the scholars, big and little, cowed and frightened 
by such tremendous and unlooked-for developments, 
had betaken themselves again to their seats. 


TOT GARDINER HITS BACK 71 

J ack stood opposite Betsy on the school-house floor, 
seemingly for the moment as much bewildered as the 
rest at the unexpected turn of things. He could not 
imagine what to say or do; but Betsy, with a woman’s 
quick intuition, rose to the occasion. 

“ May I speak a word to the school, Mr. Bennett ? ” 
she exclaimed. 

J ack bowed his head, at a loss to know what to say, 
and Betsy Carey took the bull by the horns. 

“ Girls and hoys,” she said, “ Mr. Bennett has made 
me monitor, and I’ll own up to it it’s a pretty bad 
monitor I’ve been. The scene in this school-house to- 
day is a disgrace to us, and to our fathers and mothers, 
and the whole district. We couldn’t have a better or 
kinder teacher than Mr. Bennett, or one that would try 
to get us on more and teach us something, and we owe 
him the biggest possible apology. I’m sure that Tot 
Gardiner is just as sorry as I am, and so will my 
brother be as soon as I get home and tell his father 
about his carryings on this morning. I expect that he 
will be expelled from the school, for squaring up at the 
master; and serve him right too, although he is my 
brother. If Mr. Bennett had been like some school- 
masters I’ve heard about, he’d have caned Mick Cassidy 
and a dozen more of you long before this, and put the 
fear of death into you, and the School Committee would 
have backed him up in it ; make no mistake about that ! 

I should apologise too to Mrs. Lord for this morning’s 
business, and I hope she will go away and think no 
more about it, and we’ll see that Mercy is not inter- 
fered with any more. I can’t think what devil of mis- 
chief has got into the school; I feel that ashamed that 
I don’t know what to say. We are such a lot of igno- 


THE OUTLAW 


72 

rant, half-trained youngsters, that I hope Mr. Bennett 
will overlook the matter and go on teaching us until we 
learn better how to behave ourselves.” 

Betsy had been half crying the whole of the time, 
and at this she broke down completely and went out- 
side to hide her tears. 

Never in his life had Salathiel passed through such 
an ordeal as this. He stood up before the now awed 
and frightened children, and simply said : “ I am 

much obliged to Miss Carey. I can’t teach school any 
more to-day, I will speak about it to the School Com- 
mittee this afternoon. You can all go home.” 

Never did a school break up so quietly. One by one, 
big and little, the boys and girls left for their homes, 
Mrs. Lord and Mercy with them. Jack followed ab- 
stractedly to the school-house door as the last departed 
and there found Betsy, with the bridle of her pony 
over her arm. 

“ Mr. Bennett,” she said, “ I am so awfully sorry. 
I hope you will forgive us all — and we were getting 
to like you so much ! ” 

Then, suddenly, the impetuous girl sprang upon 
Loiterer and cantered off, and Jack found himself 
alone. 

lie pulled to the door of the now deserted school- 
house, and looked down the hill after the last of his 
scholars and Betsy, and then went into his shanty. 

“ That girl’s a brick,” he muttered to himself, “ but 
it’s plain that I can’t manage the school.” 

He felt terribly depressed and downhearted. “ It’s 
like my luck,” he said bitterly. “ I suppose some 
other untoward thing will come out of this.” 


TOT GARDINER HITS BACK 73 

As Betsy rode home she fell in with a strange man, 
seemingly a swagman, sitting smoking on a wayside 
log ; she did not quite like the look of him, but he stood 
up to speak to her as she rode by. 

“ Can you please tell me which is the way to the 
school-house ? ” he asked. 

Betsy started, and stared at him for a moment be- 
wildered. 

“ Is it Mr. Bennett, the school-teacher, you want % ” 
she asked quickly. 

“ I believe that’s the gentleman,” said the man. 

While Betsy gave the necessary directions she took 
careful note of a number of things about the man, 
which had he known, might not have pleased him. 

“ Short, fair man, queer grey eyes, wears little ear- 
rings, wrists tattooed; may have been a sailor once. 
Carries pistols and rides a horse. His saddle and 
bridle were behind the tree, horse at the back, feed- 
ing no doubt near the blind creek. Ho relation of Mr. 
Bennett, I’m sure, not at all alike; I wonder what he 
wants with him ! ” 

Hot long afterwards, as Jack sat drinking a cup of 
tea, he heard some one coming across the school-ground. 

He rose up to see who the new-comer might be, and 
stood in the doorway. 

“ Good day, Captain.” 

Jack was not at all surprised; it was just about what 
he had expected would happen. 

u Good day, Dan ; come in and have a drink of tea 
and something to eat ; the billy is just boiling.” 

He knew what Dan’s errand was. He had been sent 
by the gang to bring him back, and he could not have 
come at a better time for the success of his mission. 


CHAPTER X 


MR. FLANNIGAJST, OF THE WOLLOMBI 

6 4/^ HAPS all right, Dan?” asked Jack, as they 
V-/ entered the shanty. 

“ Right as rain, Captain, only a bit rusty for want of 
work.” 

“ Well, drink some tea and eat something, and then 
we’ll have a glass of grog and a smoke, and you can tell 
me the news. Riding Old Shiner, I see ; looks as fit as 
a fiddle too — take off your saddle and swag, and I’ll 
put him up in a handy paddock I have here, with Eleet- 
foot, while you get your feed. If any one happens to 
call in, say Mr. Bennett will be back in a few minutes. 
You know I am the school-teacher here at present. 
Don’t forget the name — Bennett.” 

J ack lit his pipe and sauntered off, with Old Shiner’s 
rein over his arm; he wanted to think about this new 
turn of affairs before talking matters over with Dan 
Morley. He had made up his mind to one thing, 
whatever else might happen. He would meet the 
School Committee, put things straight with the 
scholars, have some friendly understanding with Betsy 
and the others, and then 

“ Ah, and then,” he said aloud, “ and then prob- 

ably the gallows! My God, no! I’ll put a bullet 
through my head first. I wonder whether Dan has any 
news of the old man and my mother and Ruth. Good 
74 


FLANNIGAN, OF THE WOLLOMBI 75 

Lord, isn’t life in this accursed country, with its brutal 
officialism, a detestable thing. Why could I not go on 
teaching school here, like an honest man ? ” 

Jack had reached the paddock by this, and as he 
took down the slip-rails Old Shiner recognised Fleet- 
foot as a mate, and whinnied to him. He slipped off 
the bridle from the horse, which at once trotted over 
to Fleetfoot, who whinnied a welcome, and the two 
began to crop the grass together, side by side. 

Jack put up the rails, and leaning on the top one, 
smoked his pipe out, still looking at the two animals. 
Old Shiner was out of an important sire on Major 
Glen’s run. Dan Morley said he had bought him, fair 
and square, from a dealer. “ He might have done so,” 
thought Jack, “for if he is not very prepossessing in 
his looks, Dan is not a bad fellow at heart. I wish they 
had sent one of the other chaps; Dan’s a sticker, and 
won’t leave this settlement without me. He’ll have to 
clear out for a bit, however; I can’t have him hanging 
about the school-house. It may take me a week to get 
things straightened up.” 

Jack thought over a dozen things which he might do. 
He had managed to cover his tracks very cleverly in 
coming down to the Broadhaven Valley; why not send 
Dan back with a recommendation to the gang to make 
him their captain, and stay on himself as school- 
teacher? He could take Dan into his confidence, tell 
him that he was sick of an outlaw’s life, and get him 
to tell the chaps that Jack Salathiel was dead, and 
advise them to disband. He would give up his share 
to them, and there would be a very fair amount to 
divide. 

He looked at his watch and then up at the sun; it 


THE OUTLAW 


7 6 

was mid-day, and the watch was old Squatter Down- 
ing’s, of Musselbrook. 

“ Beggar the thing ! what’s the good of a curse like 
me trying to be an honest man ? Fancy J ack Salathiel, 
ex-convict and one time bushranger, settling down to 
teach children sums, and writing, and reading, and — 
morality. I don’t suppose Dan or any of the chaps 
would ‘ come it on me ’ down here ; but there’s the past 
to reckon with ; it would be bound to crop up some time. 
‘ Whatsoever a man sows that shall he also reap,’ eh, 
Jack Salathiel?” 

lie turned at this and walked slowly back to the 
school-house. As he neared the teacher’s dwelling, 
however, he heard voices. Some one was talking to 
Dan Morley. There was no mistaking the voice. It 
was Amos Gordon. 

J ack paused to collect himself. They were evidently 
standing in front of the house under the verandah. 

“ You’re a stranger in these parts, my son,” he heard 
the old man say, “ and if you are a friend of John Ben- 
nett’s, let me tell you he is very much respected among 
the good people here.” 

Jack heard Dan reply that he was a bit of an ac- 
quaintance of the schoolmaster’s; dropped in, casually 
like, to see him. He was on the look out for a bit of 
country to settle on. Dan’s quick ear had heard Jack 
approaching, and he said this to give him a cue. 

“ Good day, Mr. Gordon,” said J ack cordially, “ glad 
to see you ; hang up your horse and come in and have 
a drink of tea and a bite of something.” 

The schoolmaster and local preacher shook hands. 
“ Your friend here,” said old Amos, waiting for an 
introduction. 


FLANNIGAN, OF THE WOLLOMBI 77 

“ Ah, just an acquaintance from Sydney side/’ stam- 
mered Jack. “Mister — Flannigan, late of the Wol- 
lombi district,” said Dan without a moment’s hesita- 
tion. 

“ Glad to meet you, Mr. Flannigan. I’ve heard of 
the Wollombi, but never travelled as far; don’t sup- 
pose I ever shall now. I’m getting to be an old man 
and have quite enough to do to keep old friendships in 
good repair.’’ 

Jack busied himself in straightening up the food 
on the rough table, and brewing a fresh billy of tea, 
while the two men sat down together and talked about 
the weather and the country. He earnestly hoped that 
Dan would have the good sense to clear off for a bit. 

“ I heard down at Polly McCarthy’s that there had 
been a bit of a rumpus in the school this morning, so, 
as I was in the district, I thought I would ride up and 
talk the matter over with you.” 

Jack hesitated to reply. The presence of Dan em- 
barrassed him; but Dan had just poured himself out 
another pannican of tea and showed no sign of moving. 
The fact was that he thought it a good opportunity to 
hear something about the captain’s career as a school- 
teacher, and he chuckled to himself as he thought of the 
roars of laughter the captain’s clever impersonation 
would evoke among the fellows in the camp. It never 
occurred to Dan that Salathiel had taken the matter so 
seriously to heart, and he listened with the keenest in- 
terest to hear what had been going on all these weeks at 
the school. 

“ I thought that girl had been crying a bit, or some- 
thing; nice girl too, and she was so interested in me 
when she knew who I wanted. I wonder now what 


THE OUTLAW 


78 

the captain’s been np to here. Making love to some 
of the pretty heifers of the district, perhaps. By gosh ! 
the chaps used to say that he never looked at a woman ; 
but he’s been up to a bit of a game with the womenfolk 
down here, you bet.” 

Such was the trend of Dan’s mental- reflections ; but 
when Jack gravely told Amos Gordon all that had hap- 
pened, Dan opened his eyes, and decided in his mind 
that the captain had sustained his reputation for being 
the queerest cuss that ever turned bushranger. 

“ Don’t you be a bit discouraged, friend school- 
master,” said the old man, when he had heard Jack’s 
account of Mrs. Lord’s visit and its unfortunate conse- 
quences. “ You’ve the sympathy and respect of the 
people; the children are like a lot of unroped cattle, 
and you have got along wonderfully with them. Tot 
Gardiner is the biggest limb in the valley, but she’s not 
bad at heart; and Bob Carey’s like a young steer as 
doesn’t know himself; I’ll answer for it that by this 
time his father has given him the biggest hiding for 
offering to fight you before the children he ever had in 
his life. There’s been a bit of sweethearting, I hear, 
between him and Tot Gardiner; but his mother doesn’t 
approve of it, and they are neither of them much more 
than rising eighteen, and Tot says she wants a man to 
court her, and not a calf; so I think, schoolmaster, 
things will soon right themselves without giving you 
much trouble. You ride over and see Silas Stump, 
and get a School Committee meeting to-night, and have 
it settled off-hand. You’ll have to cane some of them, 
my friend; I don’t believe much in flogging, but you 
must maintain discipline, and the good old Book says: 
‘ He that spareth the rod spoileth the child.’ You’ll 


FLANNIGAN, OF THE WOLLOMBI 79 

have to take that rod down from the nail where they 
say you’ve hung it and rule your scholars with firmness 
and righteousness.” 

“ The Committee will have to get another school- 
master, old friend,” said Jack; “ you mean well, and 
your advice is no doubt good, but I’ll never lift a hand 
to flog a fellow creature, in this flogging-cursed coun- 
try, unless it is to flog a flogger, or some brutal Govern- 
ment official ! ” 

Old Amos looked at the schoolmaster for a full half- 
minute in much astonishment. The outburst had 
taken him completely by surprise. 

“ My good friend,” said he, “ you are wrong. 
‘ Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth 
every son whom He receiveth.’ John Bennett, I love 
you for your good and tender heart, but I don’t agree 
with you.” He paused for a moment, and looked the 
schoolmaster full in the face. Jack’s eyes fell before 
that calm, deep gaze. Old Gordon knew then that there 
was a sad past in this man’s life; knew, in that mo- 
ment, that he was talking to a man who had been a 
convict once. A bitter undertone gave the schoolmas- 
ter’s words a deep significance. 

“ John Bennett,” he repeated, and tears of memory 
glistened in his expressive eyes. “ John Bennett, I 
love you for your good and tender heart.” He drew 
himself up to his full height as he continued, “ I too 
have been chastened, by permission of the good Lord, 
and it was not pleasant, but grievous, I’ve sinned, 
much like every other son of Adam ; but I have loved 
much, as becometh a son of God. I never knowingly 
broke my country’s laws; but these hands have been 
tied unjustly to the public flogging post, and these 


8o 


THE OUTLAW 


shoulders and back have bled and blistered beneath the 
brutal lash. I carry the scars of more than one such 
flogging, but the good Lord suffered greater pain and 
sorrow for the sake of you and me, and I bow my head 
submissively before Him. At one time the inhuman 
cruelty of ungodly men embittered my life and warped 
my judgment; but it don’t now. Forgetting the things 
which are behind, I am reaching forward, schoolmaster, 
to the things which are before, and I press toward the 
mark for the prize. Let the dead past bury its dead, 
schoolmaster. I have told you and this good man a 
part of Amos Gordon’s story. Let us say no more 
about it. Take up your life-work bravely, and do it 
fearlessly and honestly; as schoolmaster you are put 
over these youngsters in the place of their parents, as 
the representative of authority and justice, and to some 
degree, in the place of God. Punish wrongdoers in 
your school mercifully, and not in anger; make them 
respect you and the law, and reverence right ; and they 
will grow up to thank and love you for it in the years 
to come. . . . God bless you, my friend. Go you 
down and talk it over with Silas Stump and the Com- 
mittee, schoolmaster, and keep your head and your 
heart up; you are doing a good work here, and the 
people of this Broadhaven Valley know it too.” 

The old man shook hands with them both, mounted 
his grey cob, and went off down the hill, leaving the 
two bushrangers puffing at their pipes in silence. 

“Dan,” said Jack, at last, “the old man has 
spoken the truth; but we are outlaws, and had better 
make a forget of it. If I could begin a new life, I 
would, but I can’t. You may choose for yourself; I 
have a hundred pounds here in notes and gold; if you 


FLANNIGAN, OF THE WOLLOMBI 81 

wish, I’ll give it to you, and a fair discharge from the 
gang, and you can get away somewhere out of this and 
start afresh. I’ll make it all right for you, fair and 
square, on the Liverpool Ranges.” 

“ Ro, Captain,” said Dan, “ I’ve come down here to 
take you hack with me to the gang ; they want you, and 
I won’t go hack on either you nor them, hang me if I 
will! Give me a glass of that grog you mentioned, 
and if you like to tell the chaps what old Gordon said, 
and they think well to disband, that’s another matter.” 


CHAPTER XI 

SILAS STUMP’S ADVICE 


D AN MORLEY thought that Salathiel must have 
quite forgotten about the grog, for he seemed to 
have fallen into a brown study. The two men smoked 
in silence for a while, both of them busy with their own 
thoughts. Then Jack rose abruptly, knocked the ashes 
out of his pipe into the fire-place, and put a bottle of 
whisky upon the table, with a billy of water and clean 
pannicans. 

“ Help yourself, Dan,” he said ; “ I usually prefer 
water or tea; but I’ll have a drink with you to-day, for 
old acquaintance’ sake and to steady my nerves. Old 
Father Gordon is a hard hitter for a parson chap. 
We’ll have to put a bit of a stir on; I’ll show you where 
you can camp until the moon rises to-night. I can’t 
have you about here, and I guess, after your ride, you 
can do with a few hours’ sleep. I will hang a calf’s 
skin on the bridle nail of the verandah post to-night, as 
a signal that the coast is clear. Then we can have a 
good yarn, and you can sleep here to-night. We’d 
better get the horses up at once, as I want to ride over 
to see Silas Stump, the school secretary. Your camp 
is not far away; I’ve fixed it up so that a man might lie 
low, with comfort, for a month or more, so long as he 
had a friend outside, and no troopers on his trail.” 

A quarter of an hour’s ride through the Bush 
82 


SILAS STUMPS ADVICE 83 

brought the men to a razor-back, on the other side of 
which was a belt of shea oaks. Pushing through, they 
came to a shallow gully, which opened out into a well- 
grassed flat, where one of the many mountain springs 
of the district fed a small stream, which presently 
leaped in foaming cataracts down a great wild gorge, 
where it disappeared, Jack said, in a strange opening, 
and ran for a short distance underground, finally 
making its way into the Bailey River. 

They pulled up here, and Dan noted the time, the 
direction of the sun, and lie of the country; for he 
would have to return alone to the school-house by moon- 
light. 

It was truly a wonderful scene which spread itself 
around them and at their feet. It was a garden of 
wild flowers, more English-like than those of the low 
lands of the coast; bluebells of a larger growth, wild 
geraniums, marigolds, asphodels, and white and red 
and mauve daisies. Violets, large and varied in col- 
our; orchids and other flowering bulbs bowing their 
massive blooms before the summer breeze in beds of 
colour; some of them a sheeny satin mauve, and many 
of them fragrant. There were flowering heaths and 
wattle, jasmine, woodbine, wild musk and clematis, and 
native lilac, which in their season made dewy morn 
and eve fragrant with sweetness. 

The sky had been clear all day, save for a few white 
clouds, which gave depth and vividness to the over- 
arching vault of blue; and,*as it was after a spell of 
wet weather, the rain-washed atmosphere was as clear 
as crystal. Ten miles away, looking down the gorge, 
was the great Pacific Ocean. Ear overhead, in the 
enormous gum-trees, green and scarlet and blue parrots 


THE OUTLAW 


84 

chattered ; and gill, and satin birds, and gan-gans, with 
other smaller rainbow coloured denizens of the Aus- 
tralian forest, which twittered in the lower branches. 
A wallaby skipped leisurely in front of them. 

They left their horses here and climbed higher up 
to some caves Jack had discovered, the entrance to one 
of which was screened by an enormous boulder; and 
as though still further to guard the entrance, there grew 
in front of it a huge native fig-tree, whose lower 
branches almost swept the ground. Jack showed Dan 
that by pushing through these branches, access was 
obtained to a path around the boulder, where was a 
perfectly dry cave, which Jack had already provisioned 
with food. In one corner was a rough bed of ferns and 
branches. 

“ You see,” said Jack, “ there’s water, food for a 
horse, three ways of exit, and a splendid look-out over 
a good stretch of country from the rocks above.” 

“ It’s a pretty place, Captain, for the purpose,” said 
Dan approvingly. “ I suppose Old Shiner will be safe 
for a bit on the flat ; he won’t stray for want of water. 
I was in the saddle all last night, so I think I’ll lie 
down and have a sleep until a bit after sundown, and 
then I’ll come over to the school-house. Don’t forget 
to hang out that calf-skin ! ” 

Jack now made his way to Silas Stump’s, and asked 
him to ride across to the school-house as soon as he 
could, as some of the Committee would be sure to be 
there, to talk over matters. The trouble had arisen, 
he explained, over the Carey and Lord contention, and 
the more quickly and quietly it was settled the better. 

“Yer made a mistake, schoolmaster, not to have 
flogged ’em,” said Silas ; “ that fancy notion of yours 


SILAS STUMP’S ADVICE 85 

about ruling youngsters by kindness won’t work, I tell 
you. It’ll be best for Poddy Carey to keep Bob away 
from school until the thing’s blown over. Anyhow, 
I’ll come up, and we’ll talk about it; you can’t carry 
on the school if boys like Bob Carey square up and 
fight y°u before the scholars. Do you think you could 
have licked the young cub, mister ? ” 

“ I don’t think at all about it, Silas,” said Jack 
quietly. 

“ Well then, yer ought to lick him the next chance 
you get,” said Silas, grimly ; “ it would be a warning 
to the whole school; but don’t let Poddy Carey know 
that I advised yer to.” 

Half a dozen horses might have been seen hitched 
up to the school fence that afternoon. The Committee 
were holding a meeting, and while they sympathised 
with the teacher, they told him very plainly that he 
could not expect to keep his school in order by playing 
on a flute. Some one would have to be made an ex- 
ample of, and Poddy Carey, who was loud in his con- 
demnation of Mrs. Lord’s interference, expressed his 
determination to give his son a thrashing he would 
remember as soon as he laid hands on him. Bob, how- 
ever, had not yet returned home. 

u What would you advise me to do with Tot Gardi- 
ner ? ” asked J ack quietly. 

Ho one replied to this at first. u She’s rather too 
big to wop,” said Hed Driver, one of the quietest of 
the Committee. 

u Stand her out for punishment, and hang the calf- 
skin round her neck,” said Silas. 

“ I think you’d best leave her to me,” said J ack, 
smiling. “ She has no father, and has had her own 


86 


THE OUTLAW 


way for years; but unless she apologises to the school, 
which I don’t think she will, I shall have to send her 
hack home if she comes to-morrow.” 

“ Supposing she won’t go,” said another member of 
the Committee, who had had some experience of Tot’s 
obstinacy. 

“ Then I’ll tell her that I shall leave the school and 
district myself,” said Jack quietly. 

“ No fear, schoolmaster! ” ejaculated Silas. “ Don’t 
chuck up your job like that.” 

“ I mean it,” said Jack. 

“ Then you’ll be a bigger fool than I took you for,” 
said Poddy Carey roughly. 

“ Were you able to manage yer last school without 
waling ’em ? ” inquired Ned Driver. 

The Committee waited for an answer; but Jack 
seemed absorbed in thought, and made no reply. 

“ By gum, schoolmaster ! ” exclaimed the secretary 
at last, “ yer a good enough scholar and teacher; but 
nature never cut you out for school-teaching in this ’ere 
district, I guess.” 

“ I think you are right, Mr. Stump,” was the school- 
master’s rejoinder. “ I’ll give the school another trial, 
and if I can’t succeed without flogging the youngsters 
I’ll resign.” 

It was finally arranged that Silas Stump and two 
other members of the Committee should form a depu- 
tation to visit the school on the following morning, and 
take such steps with the scholars as seemed most advis- 
able. They agreed that it would never do to let John 
Bennett leave them, and Silas advised that, they should 
take the law into their own hands, and flog Mick Cas- 
sidy and one or two others of the delinquents themselves. 


SILAS STUMP’S ADVICE 87 

“ He’s too soft-hearted for a schoolmaster,” said 
Silas, in a despondent tone of voice to Ned Driver 
as they rode homeward. “ Blest if he isn’t a regular 
quilter, big and strong enough to fight two medium 
sized chaps, and yet he’s as chicken-hearted over the 
youngsters as a heifer with her first calf.” 

“Dang me if I can understand him,” replied Ned; 
“ that scar over his forehead and the flash of his eye 
would suppose to you a different tale altogether. 
Shows yer can’t judge a man by appearances. He’s 
got strength enough to stun a bullock with his fist, and 
yet it seems to me that he would be afraid to kill a fly. 
I suppose it’s his addication, poor chap! I’d like to 
know how he came by that scar though, and where he 
w T as brought up.” 

That evening the calf-skin was hung out as a signal, 
and Salathiel and Dan sat and talked far into the night. 
Little was said about the school or the meeting of the 
Committee; Dan had too much to tell about the gang 
and matters relating to the outside world. He urged 
Salathiel to return with him at once, and leave the 
school without further notice, but Jack would not hear 
of it, and persisted that it might take a fortnight before 
he could get things properly squared up. 

“ We’ll have some more of the chaps down here, 
looking for us, before then,” said Dan glumly. 

“ Can’t help it ! ” replied Salathiel. “ But shut up 
about the school, and tell me more of what’s been going 
on these weeks in Sydney and up Maitland way.” 


CHAPTER XII 


HOW THE BUSHRANGERS BLUFFED MAITLAND 

i i T X TELL,” said Dan, refilling his pipe, “ the 
V V troopers were all over the country after we 
flogged McBurton, but the heavy rains covered up our 
tracks, and we lay very quiet in camp for over a fort- 
night. There was a ‘ sticking up ’ at a station near 
Ur alia, but none of our chaps were in it, so that put 
them off our scent; but the chaps were presently that 
sick of doing nothing, except occasional friendly visit- 
ing about the district, that they were as restless as a 
lot of yarded brumbies, so knowing that the police were 
away, we fixed it up for some of us to go down and 
hear what news we could pick up in Maitland. 

“ Six of us rode down in the night, and planted our 
horses in the big paddock, at the back of McGregor’s 
pub, and waited about until dusk to go into the town. 
We were all got up for the occasion, of course, as the 
whole place was in a ferment over recent affairs! It 
would have taken a smart ’un, however, to have 
guessed at a glance who we were. 

“When we got down to the long bridge over the 
swamp, I thought it best to lie low until it was a bit 
darker, and as we had plenty of grog and tobacco, we 
made ourselves comfortable under the bridge, and fixed 
up our plans, in case there might be a flutter and a run 
for it Presently who should we see coming along but 
88 


BUSHRANGERS BLUFF MAITLAND 89 

four soldiers. They were for strolling over the bridge, 
free and easy like, evidently on their way for a drink 
at old McGregor’s, on the top of Campbeli’s hill. 

“ ‘ Chaps/ said Dandy Snow, c what do you say to a 
couple of hours’ soldiering in town ? ’ 

“ ‘ Not good enough/ replied Jerry. 
u ‘ Yes, it is/ said Dandy ; £ they’re out on leave, and 
haven’t even their side-arms with them. Let’s bail 
them up, and four of us go in dressed in their uni- 
forms I ’ It was a bit of a risk, but the fun was too 
good to pass, so we agreed to stop them. They came 
swaggering carelessly along, all in a row, and we could 
hear one of them yarning to the rest. We got under 
cover of some bushes to wait for them, three on each 
side, at the end of the bridge. 

“ It was like tempting the Devil, for the man that 
was telling the yarn stopped at the end of the bridge 
to light his pipe, and the others stood around and 
waited. We heard him say that Jack Salathiel’s gang 
couldn’t keep quiet much longer, and we guessed that 
the other three were some of the new squad which had 
just been sent up from Sydney. 

“ ‘ Bail up ! ’ said J erry quietly, and when they 
turned around all six of us had jumped out of the bush 
and covered them. We threatened them with death if 
they let out a whimper, and just marched them down, 
without another word, under the bridge. 

“ 6 You cap take your grog down here, lads/ I said 
to them. ‘ We don’t mean to do you any harm if you 
keep quiet, but we’ll get the loan of your clothes for a 
couple of hours, while we take a stroll around town.’ 

“/Who are you?’ said the man who had been 
yarning. 


90 


THE OUTLAW 


“ 6 Just a few of Jack Salathiel’s gang/ I replied, 
6 get off your togs, and be spry about it, or you’ll be in 
Hell in a jiffy.’ 

“ They were big, stout fellows, but they stripped 
without another word; they saw that there was no 
choice about it. 

“ We settled that the chaps whose clothes they would 
fit best should do the razzle-dazzle, and the two others 
stop and keep an eye on the prisoners. 

“ We lent them some of our clothes, and gave them 
a bottle of grog and ’bacca, and then asked them a few 
things about affairs in town. We told them that all 
we were on for was a bit of a spree, and after a pan- 
nican of grog each, they grew quite obliging, and 
showed us how to salute an officer, and told us a few 
trifles, so that we might get through without detection. 
Dandy, Jerry, Ned Fenton and myself were the best 
fits for the clothes, and seeing that we didn’t intend to 
harm them, the soldiers filled their pipes, and settled 
down to make the best of it. 

“ By gum, Captain ! you should have seen the four 
fine soldiers we made. I was half-inclined to march 
straight up to the barracks and report myself. Well, 
we strolled over the bridge into town, just in the style 
we had seen them come across. It was a bit risky, and 
we felt a trifle nervous as we passed a dray and some 
people ; but we relished the fun and walked right along 
to the Northumberland Hotel. Who should be stand- 
ing in the bar but Pat Maloney ? I tell you he gave a 
jump when he recognised me, but I tipped him a wink, 
and asked him to have a drink. 

“ < By gorra, and that I will,’ said he. ‘ I suppose 
you belong to the new squad, boys ? ’ 


BUSHRANGERS BLUFF MAITLAND 91 

“ We got into a corner by ourselves, and he told us 
all the news he could think of. 

“ ‘ Yer not up to any tricks, Dan, to-night ? ’ he whis- 
pered, anxiously. 

“ ‘ Never a bit ! 9 said I, 6 only taking a stroll round 
town to see the sights and pick up a bit of news.’ 

u c Where did you get ’em ? 9 he asked, pointing to 
the uniforms. 

u 6 J ust borrowed ’em for a couple of hours from 
four decent chaps who are waiting outside the town, 
drinking grog and smoking good ’bacca till we get back 
to them.’ 

“ He gave a sigh of relief at this, and promised to 
keep dark until morning. We invited him to call in 
at some of the other pubs with us, but he was a bit 
shy of being seen too much in our company, and we 
arranged to meet him at the Maitland Arms two hours 
later. I can’t tell you all the rum adventures and 
narrow escapes we had, and how we managed to keep 
clear of any other soldiers. We knew we must keep 
sober ; but it was a daisy time ; we spent all the soldiers’ 
money and a good bit of our own, and painted West 
Maitland red until midnight, under the very noses of 
the authorities, winding up with a great supper at Pat 
Maloney’s. 

“ The fun was that the townspeople thought we were 
some of the new soldiers, and the police, thinking the 
same, didn’t dare to interfere with us. We heard from 
Pat afterward that there was a tremendous commotion 
at the East Maitland Barracks when the soldiers went 
back in the morning, half-drunk, and told their yarn 
about having been bailed up by Salathiel’s gang, close 
to the town, and stripped of their uniforms. But we 


THE OUTLAW 


92 

bad got all the news we wanted, and bought a few 
things, and were safe in camp, before the inspector got 
back again, and raised no end of a hubbub over the 
audacity of the gang and the laxity of his subordinates. 

“ People laughed themselves ill over it, but none 
more than we did when one of the kids brought up 
some of the Maitland and Sydney papers, and we read 
their descriptions of our doings and their denunciation 
of the authorities.” 

J ack laughed heartily as Dan told him of this, espe- 
cially as the papers had stated that he was one of the 
daring adventurers. But he realised that it was a good 
thing, for it would keep the authorities on the alert for 
him around Maitland and would prevent any suspicion 
of his absence from the gang. 

“ Did you call in at Sydney on your way down ? ” 
asked Jack. 

“ I did so, Captain,” said Dan, in a quieter tone. 
“ I thought you would like to hear about your people. 
They are all well, and hold up their heads as though 
they had no connection with any one out in the Bush.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


RETROSPECT AND FAILURE 

D AX, rolled up in a blanket, slept sonorously that 
night in the schoolmaster’s shanty; but Jack for 
once found it hard to get to sleep. 

Some big logs smouldered and flickered in the large 
open fire-place, and phantoms of the past filed slowly 
out of the shadows into the firelight, and then vanished 
again in the gloom. 

It was then a stem, cruel, pitiless time for offenders 
against law, and the severity of the convict system in 
Australia was only a reflex of the inhumanity and bru- 
tality of common law in England and other countries. 
The great historic mutinies of the British fleet at Spit- 
head and the Xore, which were the outcome of the 
persistent ill treatment of our gallant sailors, still lay 
within living memory. Trivial offences, which in these 
days would be passed over with a small fine or a magis- 
terial reprimand, then sent men and women, and even 
children of tender years, into convict servitude. Flog- 
ging, the pillory (where, in not a few instances, un- 
popular criminals were done to death with stones and 
brickbats) and the gallows, were everyday punishments. 
Men, sentenced to death at the court-house in Sydney, 
would be marched back to prison through the public 
streets, heavily ironed; and such scenes were so com- 
mon that a passer-by would scarcely turn his head to 
93 


THE OUTLAW 


94 

notice them. The worst features of criminal jurispru- 
dence and punishments were reproduced in all their 
hideousness in Australia, and one false step too often 
sent unfortunate offenders irretrievably upon the road 
to perdition, for the bestial horror of the road gangs 
cannot be described. 

No Jew in Australia before Jack Salathiel’s time, 
as his father sternly wrote to him, had been outlawed. 
With only one sister, Kuth by name, Jack had grown 
up in a home of more than ordinary comfort and intel- 
ligence; religion was strictly observed, and all good 
principles cultivated ; but in a dark hour of temptation 
Jack had tripped and fallen, and the rigorous law had 
condemned him to convict servitude. His name was 
obliterated from the family records, he was lost to so- 
ciety, and at last, by deeds of violence and robbery, he 
had been swept beyond the reach of all, save, perhaps, 
his mother’s and his sister’s love. 

He saw, in that still hour of restless wakefulness, 
scenes of his happy childhood and early, hopeful man- 
hood. Of the vices common to the times he had none; 
he was naturally studious, and his close application to 
learning shut out the thought of other things; but he 
had jealous rivals in the pursuit of knowledge, and 
from one of these, in an ill-fated hour, he had stolen 
a valuable book he had long coveted — books were 
scarce in those days. His rival was the son of an offi- 
cial, and the theft was brought home to him under 
harsh and ignominious circumstances. Instead of 
quietly submitting to arrest, he fought with the officer 
of the law, and injured him — being himself badly 
wounded, as the scar upon his forehead testified — but 
his doom was sealed, and home, friends, and society 


RETROSPECT AND FAILURE 95 

knew him no more. u God help him ! ” said those who 
heard the sentence of seven years’ servitude, with three 
of them in irons on the road. “ Jack Salathiel will 
never come back again ! ” 

Lying there, viewing the past in the flickering fire- 
light, he would have given his right hand — the hand 
which stole the book, and in hot blood smote the 
Government officer — to redeem the past ; but alas ! the 
years of bitter servitude had darkened and hardened 
him, and he had found no place for repentance. 

“ Get up, Dan,” said J ack at earliest daylight. 
“ Breakfast is ready, and you will have to clear out, 
for I have a busy day before me.” 

u Well, Captain, it will be a bit lonely for me up 
there ; I hope you will get through as quick as possible.” 

When the school opened that morning. Jack regarded 
everything with different eyes; the old bad past had 
come back with overwhelming force. The presence of 
Dan in the vicinity, and J ack’s realisation of the hope- 
lessness of his position, and the impossibility of escape 
from it, made him another man. 

The deputation from the Committee caned three of 
the boys, and Jack stood by approvingly. Tot Gardi- 
ner was severely reprimanded before the whole school. 
She listened calmly to their censure, and then picked 
up her hood, and walked out of the school-house, re- 
marking, as she went, that she recognised no teacher 
there except Mr. Bennett, and was not going to be 
talked to by ignorant men like Silas Stump. She put 
her two hands on the top rail of the school fence, and 
swung herself over it, for the edification of the deputa- 
tion; and then sauntered homeward to engage in farm 
and household duties, and rate her mother for having 


96 THE OUTLAW 

dared to persuade her to attend “ that confounded 
school.” 

After the deputation had departed, not altogether 
pleased with themselves, Jack took up the reins of 
school government again, hut the school songs were less 
musical, nor was the old flute as sweet, nor the lessons 
as interesting. The children could not help noticing 
the master’s evident indifference, and only by an effort 
did Betsy keep hack her tears. 

For a few days the school was carried on in similar 
fashion. Bob Carey had not returned home to receive 
his promised hiding from his father, and to crown the 
untoward position of things, Jack announced on Thurs- 
day afternoon that, with the consent of the School 
Committee, he was about to visit Sydney for a short 
holiday, and the school would be closed for a fortnight, 
or until such time as the scholars might be notified of 
its re-opening. “ Everything,” said Betsy to her 
mother, “ is at sixes and sevens, and Mr. Bennett is 
not like the same man.” 

The fact was that another matter had occurred which 
greatly disturbed Jack’s equanimity. He found that 
Dan Morley had picked up with an acquaintance, who 
was no other than Betsy’s truant brother Bob; he 
suspected, also, that Bob had introduced Dan to Tot 
Gardiner. 

Jack knew Dan Morley pretty well, and was not 
much surprised when he discovered that he had been 
feeling his way with the youngster, and having heard 
his story, was trying to pave the way to get him out 
of the Broadhaven district, with a view to his joining 
the gang. 

“ Far cows are fat,” and there was a romance about 


RETROSPECT AND FAILURE 97 

bushranging to the grown-up youngsters of the Broad- 
haven Valley unknown to those who saw it close at 
hand. But Jack determined to nip it in the bud with 
Bob Carey. He would thrash both Dan and Bob, 
rather than have the latter with them ; and he expostu- 
lated with Dan in no friendly fashion about it, and 
insisted upon his advising Bob to go back home at once. 

Bob was Betsy’s brother, which, whether he knew it 
or not, meant a good deal to Jack SalathieL 


CHAPTER XIV 


BOB CAREY THINKS BETTER OF IT 

T HERE are times in the lives of all men when acci- 
dents rather than will determine the future. 
Salathiel was now encompassed by circumstances, not 
of his own making or seeking, yet the outcome of his 
own past. Sometimes the right thing may be done in 
the wrong way, and yet result satisfactorily; but not 
often. No matter what his original motive in under- 
taking to impersonate the teacher, Jack had done his 
best for the Broadhaven school ; he had taught the chil- 
dren conscientiously, and had honestly endeavoured to 
make the school successful. He had hoped to leave 
behind him a good name and an honourable record; 
but Dan’s unwelcome visit following upon the trouble 
in the school, and Bob Carey’s foolishness in not return- 
ing home, had thwarted him, and he was now haunted 
by dark forebodings that his visit to the south as a 
schoolmaster would turn out very differently from his 
intentions. However, he determined not to be dis- 
heartened by these things; he would see the Careys at 
once, and somehow get Bob home again ; so after school 
that Thursday afternoon he saddled Eleetfoot and 
started for an interview with Poddy and Mrs. Carey. 

It was early autumn; the cool air was pleasant and 
bracing, and Fleetfoot, with good feed and regular at- 
tention, was as fit as horse could be. The road leading 
98 


BOB CAREY THINKS BETTER OF IT 99 

in the direction of Dan’s hiding place, Jack turned off, 
to see if he happened to be anywhere about. Riding 
quietly through the Bush, he came to the camp, and to 
his surprise found Dan and Bob together, looking at 
Old Shiner. 

“ Mr. Bennett,” said Dan, who seemed somewhat 
abashed as Jack stood before them, “ I have told Bob 
that he need not be afraid of you. He says he wants 
to leave home and try his fortune in the world, and as 
T can’t find any suitable land in this locality I have told 
him that he can get a horse, and come with me, and 
see what may be offering somewhere else.” 

“ Bob will have to go back home,” said Jack curtly. 

Bob hung his head as he met the schoolmaster’s eye, 
but said nothing. 

“ Look here, Bob,” said J ack kindly ; u you’ve done 
wrong by staying away from your home like this, and 
no good will come of your running away like a coward. 
You have done nothing seriously wrong, however, as 
yet ; and your mother and the rest of them are breaking 
their hearts about you. If you want to quit your home, 
go back like a man, face it out, and leave them all in a 
friendly way, with a proper good-bye. Be a man, and 
play your part in a manly fashion, and not like a mis- 
erable sneak. I’m riding over to the farm now, and 
I’ll make it all right for you. I will get your father 
to promise that there will be nothing further said. 
He can’t very well refuse me. There now, give me 
your hand, boy, and let’s be friends again; you’ll do 
far better for another year or two at home, and then 
go out and try your luck, if you want to, like an honest 
man.” 

The boy was big and hardy, but his week of camp- 


100 


THE OUTLAW 


in g out had not been without its privations. There 
were tears in his eyes as he silently took Jack’s prof- 
fered hand. 

“ Will you go back home to-night \ ” asked Jack. 

Bob turned round and looked at Dan Morley. 

“Never mind this man,” said Jack sternly. “I’m 
afraid he is not advising you for your good. Let me 
tell you, once for all, you can’t go with him, without 
my consent, and I’ll never give it, and after to-night I 
won’t have you camping here with him. It’s either to 
go back home, or into the Bush alone. I give you the 
alternative; but you’ll be a bigger fool than I take you 
for if you reject my advice.” 

“ I expect you’d best take the captain at his word,” 
said Dan sullenly, “you’re only a kid yet, and if the 
captain don’t want you, Dan Morley don’t either. But 
if you let out a word of what’s passed between us to a 
living soul, you’ll like as not find yourself with a bullet 
through your head some fine morning.” 

Bob Carey looked from one to the other, his eyes 
wide open with astonishment. 

“ What d’ye mean ? ” he said to Dan. “ I thought 
your name was Plannigan, and why do you call Mr. 
Bennett c captain ’ ? ” 

“ Ye’d best make a forget of that, Bob,” said Dan 
drily. “ I’ve got several names, and I’ve known Mr. 
Bennett before he took to school-teaching.” 

“ You’ve told him quite enough,” interrupted Jack 
roughly; “keep him here until I come back, and see 
that he is ready to go home again in the morning.” 

Jack was sorely perplexed as he rode on toward the 
Bluff farm ; but he determined to face it out and some- 
how get Bob home on the morrow. 


BOB CAREY THINKS BETTER OF IT 101 


It should be explained that after the first couple of 
days Poddy Carey had made no effort to discover the 
whereabouts of his truant offspring. Food had been 
placed outside for him by his mother and Betsy, and 
on several occasions they had found it gone, the tracks 
about the place telling them that it was Bob who had 
taken it; but his father still swore to wreak vengeance 
on the boy when he laid his hands on him. All this 
was known to J ack, and as he dismounted at the house, 
he felt that his mission was not a pleasant one. He 
had a long talk first with Mrs. Carey and Betsy. They 
said the father was out in the big paddock, and would 
likely enough be back before sundown. Jack told them 
of his meeting with Bob and his determination to get 
him home again. Both women cried, but they dried 
their eyes when Poddy Carey presently rode slowly up, 
and hung his horse’s bridle on a nail at the verandah. 

“ Well, schoolmaster,” he said, “ I hear that you are 
going for a trip Sydney way.” 

“ Yes,” replied Jack, “ and before I go I want to 
fix up matters between you and Bob.” 

“ Seen the young scamp ? ” asked Poddy. 
u I have,” replied Jack, “ and what’s more, I can 
bring him home if you promise to let bygones be, and 
start him to his work again.” 

u I promised the School Committee to thrash him,” 
said Poddy. 

“ The youngster is a man,” said J ack quietly, u and 
while I own up that he deserves a flogging, I think 
you had better not 6 come it on ’ him this time. Take 
him away from school altogether, he’s too big; and 
when I come back, I’ll teach him a bit at night, with 
some of the other big ones. Remember, I’ve let it all 


102 


THE OUTLAW 


be bygones, and shook hands with Bob, and it would 
be giving me away for you to thrash him now. He’s 
had a rough experience of it this past week in the 
Bush, and has many a time gone with a hungry stom- 
ach ; don’t act unwisely by your eldest son, Mr. Carey ; 
he’s a good lad at bottom, and harsh treatment has sent 
many a decent fellow to the bad.” 

The men were now outside the house alone, walking 
up and down ; but Poddy Carey was still obdurate. 

“ He’s disgraced me before the neighbours,” he said. 

“Not a bit of it,” said Jack; “it only shows how 
much he fears and respects you. He did wrong, in a 
moment of impulse and passion, for the sake of a silly, 
undisciplined girl, and followed it up by running aw T ay, 
as many another foolish youth has done before. It was 
me he quarrelled with; but that is all over now, and 
before I leave for Sydney I want to see Bob at home 
again, and everything all right. I intend to ride over 
and call on Major Browne to-morrow, and I would like 
to be able to tell him that the school affairs are straight 
once more.” 

They had walked over by this time to where Fleetfoot 
was standing by the fence, and Poddy stood still to 
look at him. 

It is a way with men when they are deeply agitated 
that thought will suddenly fly off at a tangent and fix 
itself with interest upon any noteworthy object which 
may cross the path. 

Fleetfoot was in the pink of condition ; careful 
grooming had removed all roughness from his glossy 
coat and limbs. The high breeding of the animal was 
evidenced in the strong arched neck, shapely barrel, and 
sinewy, graceful limbs; his hindquarters were perfect, 


BOB CAREY THINKS BETTER OF IT 103 

and tlie legs well set underneath. He had been newly 
shod, and from hoof to silky ears and delicate nostrils, 
gave indications of the intelligence and generous spirit 
which only high breeding and careful training give. 
He turned his head and whinnied pleasantly as he heard 
his master’s voice. Saddle and bridle were of the best 
workmanship, and Poddy Carey mentally put the 
whole turnout down as worth little short of a hundred 
pounds. 

“ Has Major Browne seen your horse ? ” was his 
abrupt question. 

u I don’t think so,” replied J ack, startled for the mo- 
ment. “ Why ? ” 

“ Because he’d want to buy him from you,” said 
Poddy. “ You’re a lucky man to own such a nag; he’s 
as good a horse as the Major’s Pride o’ Perth, and 
maybe better. . . . Yer know, schoolmaster,” he said, 
turning round and facing Jack, “ yer a bit of a puzzle 
to some of us old hands. Yer won’t flog the kids on 
principle — see how you’ve been begging me not to 
thrash Bob ! Yer as soft spoken as a woman, and old 
preacher Gordon says ye’re as kindly hearted, and yet 
yer a strong-built man, and your eyes wild and darin’ 
enough for a bushranger’s, and yer ride the best horse 
in the district, and, from what I hear, can clear fences 
on his back, in a way as takes all the conceit out of 
we country chaps. . . . Tell Bob that, for your sake, 
I’ll take him back quiet like and say nothing more about 
it; and when yer come back from Sydney we’ll see 
about the extra teaching, and yer might tell us a yarn 
then about that horse of yours, for I’ll bet my hat there’s 
more you know about him than you have told the folks 
of the Broadhaven Valley. I’ll give yer fifty notes 


104 THE OUTLAW 

for him without the saddle, if you should happen to 
be short, mister.” 

“ Thank you, I have taken great pains to train him,” 
said Jack, “ and I wouldn’t part with him. I’ll just 
go in and say good-bye to the girls and Mrs. Carey, 
and tell them Bob will be home before noon to-mor- 
row.” 

Betsy walked with Jack to the slip-rails, after he 
had seen her mother. He shook hands with her. 

“ Mr. Bennett, are you sure that you are coming back 
again ? ” she asked nervously, looking him full in the 
face. 

Jack looked into her dark honest eyes, and a faint 
blush mantled her cheeks and brow. He could not tell 
this girl a lie at parting. 

“ I cannot say for certain, Betsy ; but I fear not,” 
he said at last. u Will you be sorry if I don’t come 
back again ? ” 

“ Every one will,” Said Betsy evasively ; but still the 
tell-tale blush mantled her cheek. 

“ Then they will be no more sorry than I shall be,” 
he answered. “ The few weeks I have spent here have 
been mostly happy ones ; but I have to go. Perhaps you 
will know why some day, and not think unkindly of 
me if others speak badly about your old schoolmaster.” 

“ They can never do that,” said Betsy. “ And why 
should I ever think unkindly of you, Mr. Bennett ? I 
could not do so. You’ve been such a friend to me.” 

“ God bless you, dear,” said Jack, and, leaping into 
the saddle, he cantered off toward the crossing. 

Betsy did not go straight back to the house ; but hav- 
ing put up the slip-rails, stood by them — and wept. 

Bob returned home next morning, shame-faced and 


BOB CAREY THINKS BETTER OF IT 105 

crestfallen, and went quietly off to his work. It was 
as though ten years had been added to his age. No one 
could get anything from him as to how he had spent his 
time in the Bush; and he refused to say a word, even 
to Betsy, about his interview with the schoolmaster. 


CHAPTER XV 


A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS 

I X the meantime, Jack had started to pay his projected 
visit to Major Browne. 

As he rode along he realised what a risky thing he 
was doing, for Broadhaven Head Station employed a 
large number of “ Government men,” and there was 
a good deal of coming and going, and fairly regular 
communication overland, and also hy small sailing craft, 
with Sydney. Then too, Major Browne was a magis- 
trate and could, on the least suspicion, have him ar- 
rested. The horse he rode also presented a source of 
possible danger; Eleetfoot was so fit and handsome, 
that it was well-nigh impossible for him not to attract 
attention. Altogether, Jack’s mind was not a little per- 
turbed, and he wished the visit well over. As likely as 
not he would be invited to stay for lunch, and there was 
no telling who might not be present at the Major’s 
hospitable table. 

While thus meditating on possible freaks of fortune, 
Jack had reached the summit of a hill, and before him, 
in panoramic beauty, there spread a winding river, and 
on its hanks the buildings which comprised Major 
Browne’s well-arranged homestead. It was his first 
view of a scene which has arrested the attention of many 
beholders, and he reined in his horse to survey the land- 
scape more closely. 


A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS 107 

A mile or more of luxuriant pasture land spread 
below him, with the Bailey River winding through it 
toward a commodious estuary through which its waters 
debouch into the Pacific Ocean. There seemed to his 
keen vision nothing wanting to make the picture sug- 
gestive of peaceful prosperity. Herds of cattle and 
mobs of horses grazed there. Around the homestead 
fine trees grew, and gardens and an extensive orchard 
flanked the low-roofed residence on the north. Jack 
had heard that Major Browne was a wealthy man, and 
owned a large house and an opulent estate ; but he was 
unprepared for such a scene as this. Presently he 
caught sight of a vessel, schooner-rigged, cautiously 
making its way up the river. Its movement gave 
animation to the picture, for, although over a couple of 
miles distant, in the clear morning atmosphere every 
object was singularly distinct. 

Soon, however, his thoughts reverted to himself and 
the object of his visit to the Major, and he muttered 
half-aloud : “ What interest can the proprietor of all 

this have in a country school and its teacher ? I might 
just as well have left without calling to give an expla- 
nation of my conduct in regard to the Committee and 
the school. What can he really care about such 
matters ? 99 

He walked his horse quietly over the well-made road, 
leading for a couple of miles down to the homestead. 
He was very much inclined to turn round and go 
back again, when he heard the sound of cantering hoofs 
behind him. As he listened, he heard them pull up, 
and come trotting down the hill. At this he turned 
Fleetfoot off the middle of the road to let them pass; 
but on reaching him the riders drew rein, and turning 


io8 


THE OUTLAW 


his head, he found beside him a lady riding a hand- 
some grey with a gentlemanly man of military appear- 
ance as her escort. 

“ Good morning, sir,” said the gentleman. “ Major 
Browne will be busy to-day; I see the schooner is com- 
ing up to the anchorage. It’s an uncommonly fine 
view from this hill. Can you tell me whether Sir 
James Bennett is still staying with the Major? ” 

Jack lifted his hat to the lady, and replied that 
he was a stranger, and had hut a very slight acquaint- 
ance with Major Browne, upon whom he was about to 
call on a matter of business only. 

“ Thank you,” said the gentleman. “ Pray excuse 
me, I thought probably that you belonged to the place. 
Good day ! ” He and his companion trotted on aloug 
the road, which here turned abruptly to the right, leav- 
ing Jack in a state of unenviable mental confusion. 
He again drew rein, and after a few minutes’ hesita- 
tion was about to wheel his horse round and forgo his 
proposed visit, when he heard a sudden scream and a 
riderless horse came galloping up the hill towards him. 
In a moment Jack had swung Pleetfoot round, and was 
racing along by the side of the runaway, and a minute 
afterwards he caught the reins and brought the fright- 
ened animal to a standstill. Turning, he trotted 
smartly down the hill, to find the lady lying by the 
roadside unconscious, and the gentleman bending over 
her in evident distress as he chafed her hands. 

“ Fasten the horses to the fence, sir,” he said, “ and, 
for God’s sake, get me some water quickly. Stay, 
though — are you a. doctor ? ” 

“ No,” said Salathiel, “ but I will get the water in 
a moment, and there are spirits in my pocket-flask,” 


A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS 109 

He had noticed a clear stream in an adjoining pad- 
dock, and returned with water in the crown of his soft 
felt hat almost immediately. 

With Jack’s timely assistance the lady was pres- 
ently restored to consciousness. “ It was very foolish 
of me to faint, father,” she said, “ but I hurt my head 
when I fell from the saddle.” 

“ I blame myself, Katie dear, for allowing you to 
ride that brute of a mare; she must have shied badly 
at something; hut thank God it is no worse. Are you 
in pain anywhere ? ” 

“ Only my head,” she replied, “ but no bones are 
broken, and I shall soon he better.” 

“ Do you think I had better ride on to the station 
for assistance?” suggested Jack. 

“ Ah, perhaps that would he best, if we may so 
trouble you! Say that Colonel Thompson’s daughter 
Katie has met with a slight accident, and I shall be 
much obliged if the Major will send a conveyance up 
the hill at once, with a man to bring down the 

horses.” 

“ Wait a few minutes, father dear,” said the lady. 
“ I shall soon be better, and we can ride down quietly.” 

“ But you can’t ride that mare, Katie ; and my horse 
would be just as bad, or worse.” 

“ If the lady is really well enough to ride, my horse 
would carry her with perfect safety,” said J ack 

hurriedly. 

“ Oh, thank you,” said the girl faintly, “ I shall 
really be better, father, in a few minutes, and I would 
not like to have it said a soldier’s daughter was so 

wanting in courage and endurance, especially if Sir 

James is there*” 


no 


THE OUTLAW 


Colonel Thompson still demurred; but on further 
persuasion, and Jack’s assurance of the gentleness of 
Eleetfoot, he assented to the arrangement; so, Jack 
having changed the saddles, the trio slowly walked the 
horses to the homestead. 

On their arrival, Major Browne and Sir Janies 
Bennett were talking together on the broad carriage 
drive fronting the entrance hall. “ Why, bless me ! 
it’s Colonel Thompson,” exclaimed the Major, “ and 
Miss Thompson too, and Mr. Bennett with you; but” 
— noting the girl’s white face — “ is anything the mat- 
ter? No accident to your daughter, I hope, Colonel? 
Been thrown, eh? Here, William! Take these 
horses round to the stables and look after them well. 
John, tell your mistress that Colonel Thompson and 
Miss Thompson are here, and that the lady has met 
with a slight accident, and bring wine and biscuits 
into the small drawing-room immediately.” 


“ Who is Mr. Bennett ? ” asked Katie of Mrs. 
Browne, as, almost well again, she reclined upon a 
sofa in the latter’s pleasant dressing-room. “ Is he 
related to Sir J antes ? ” 

“ Oh, no, dear ! He’s the new school-teacher at 
the Bluff ; he looked in, the Major tells me, upon some 
school business.” 

“ It was fortunate we met with him ; he behaved 
himself as a gentleman, and talks like a well-educated 
man,” said Katie. “ And what a beautiful horse he 
rides; he lent him to me after my fall, as father was 
afraid to let me mount Diamond again. I really 
thought that he must be related to Sir James, being 


A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS in 

of the same name; somehow his face seems familiar 
to me; but, now I remember he said that he was a 
stranger and had only recently come to the Bluff.” 

“ He came here from Maitland a few weeks ago,” 
replied Mrs. Browne. 

A snack was served to the Colonel and Salathiel, 
preparatory to lunch. Then the Major invited the 
teacher into a well-furnished library detached from 
the dwelling-house to look over some new books; he 
would have a chat with him after lunch about the 
school, he said. 

A puzzled look was on Sir James Bennett’s face 
as Major Browne explained to his visitors who Jack 
was, and how he had recently come from somewhere 
Maitland way, to take charge of the Bluff school. 

“ He rides a dashed fine horse for a school-teacher,” 
said the blunt Colonel, “ and keeps him in the pink of 
condition. I would like to have a look at Diamond 
again, and also your Pride o’ Perth; let’s walk round 
to the stables, and we can then have another look at 
Mr. Bennett’s horse. I want a really well-bred hack 
for Katie, and if your schoolmaster’s horse is what he 
seems to be, I would not mind giving him Diamond and 
six five-pound notes for him. But the animal must 
have some blemish ; school-teachers are not usually 
great judges of horse-flesh.” 

When the luncheon gong sounded, Colonel Thomp- 
son was in the library talking to Jack about Pleetfoot. 
A close inspection of the horse seemed to have more 
than satisfied him, for he had increased his offer, and 
was urging Jack to take Diamond and a cheque for 
sixty pounds in exchange for Pleetfoot. 

“ I could not part with the horse, Colonel, if you 


II 2 


THE OUTLAW 


increased your offer by another twenty pounds,” Jack 
was saying resolutely. “ You know, sir, a man’s horse 
is everything to him in the Bush. I’m not much of a 
horseman perhaps, but I have trained Eleetfoot care- 
fully, and know his ways, and he knows me and all my 
little peculiarities; and although your generous offer 
is a very tempting one, which I am greatly obliged to 
you for making, I cannot accept it.” 

“ Well, Mr. Bennett, if you should change your 
mind at any time, let me know; you will find me at 
the Barracks, Lower George Street,” said the Colonel, 
evidently chagrined by Jack’s determined refusal. 

This offer for Eleetfoot caused Jack no little annoy- 
ance, and as he entered the dining-room he looked anx- 
iously around upon the company, and glanced quickly 
at the number of seats provided for the visitors. 
There were seven in all. 

“ Miss Thompson, Colonel Thompson,” said the 
Major, drawing back the chairs to his right and left. 
“ Sir J ames, will you sit between the two ladies ? 
Captain Eraser will take the seat by Mrs. Browne. 
Mr. Bennett,” he said, nodding to the seat between the 
Captain and Colonel. “ I think you all know my old 
friend Captain Eraser, of the good ship Nancy Lee , 
unless it be Mr. Bennett. Captain Eraser, Mr. 
Bennett.” 

“ There now ” — with a smile to Mrs. Browne at 
the other end of the table — “ that is all settled ; Cap- 
tain, try a glass of our Colonial claret with the soup. 
Broadhaven vintage 1833.” 

Captain Fraser was only a week out from Sydney 
Harbour, on one of his periodical trips along the coast, 
and kept the table alive with the latest news and most 


A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS 113 

spicy gossip of the metropolis. Sir James Bennett 
had been absent for a fortnight and Colonel Thomp- 
son for a week, so the Captain, who was part owner 
of the Nancy Lee , had plenty to talk about. J ack felt 
very uncomfortable, and said but little, for he thought 
that Sir James Bennett, whom he remembered as a 
prominent Sydney Queen’s Counsel, was watching him 
with special attention. 

Occasionally Sir James addressed his conversation 
directly to him, and without asking personal questions, 
elicited facts about his school, his views upon educa- 
tion, and other matters, which Jack found decidedly 
embarrassing. 

Colonel Thompson rallied him also upon his affec- 
tion for a fine horse, while his daughter praised the 
docile Fleetfoot, and commended the school-teacher for 
not being tempted to part with an animal of which he 
had apparently made a friend. “ Love me, love my 
dog,” she said smiling, to the Major, “ and why not 
my horse ? I am sure that when they are highly bred 
and well trained, they are just as sagacious and faith- 
ful as dogs.” 

When Jack sat down after the retirement of the 
ladies at the conclusion of luncheon, he found that a 
servant had placed a folded slip of paper upon his des- 
sert plate. Tie opened it with assumed carelessness, 
knowing that Sir James Bennett was closely watching 
him. It read as follows: 

“ You are Jack Salathiel , the notorious bushranger. 
I do not wish to make a disturbance ; but if after read- 
ing this, you rise from your seat, or place your hands 
beneath the table, you will at once be shot.” 


THE OUTLAW 


114 

Captain Fraser turned round on sitting down, to 
address his conversation to Jack, as the latter quietly 
refolded the slip of paper and placed it in his waist- 
coat pocket. 

“ Black coffee and brandy, please,” said Jack to the 
servant behind him ; and then he replied with anima- 
tion to Captain Fraser’s remark about the recent hang- 
ing of a convict in Sydney. 

He kept both his hands above the table, reached 
over for a cigar, and put three lumps of loaf sugar into 
his saucer, placed above the dainty coffee cup, with- 
out exhibiting the least concern. Then, as the bar- 
rister watched him, he poured brandy over the sugar, 
and set light to it and lit his cigar with the same 
match. Gazing reflectively at the blue flame of the 
spirit in the saucer, he held his cigar in one hand, and 
ladling brandy upon the sugar in the saucer with a 
teaspoon, he talked to the Captain, as he watched the 
burning spirit, without raising his head. 

“ Our convict system, to my mind,” he said, “ is a 
curse to the Colony. There are of course upright men, 
like our host and other gentlemen, who use the system 
and administer the law with justice, and oftentimes 
with a good deal of patient consideration for the as- 
signed servants, to whom, however, they mainly owe 
their wealth and comfort; but take the case you refer 
to, on your showing the unfortunate wretch was goaded 
by a vicious and unprincipled master to do the deed he 
was hanged for. And the lives of convicts are mostly 
in the hands and at the mercy of such men. Let a 
poor and friendless wretch make but one mistake out 
here, and he is, more often than not, lost to hope. If 
he is a clever workman, or good accountant, or capable 


A CHAPTER OF ACCIDENTS 115 

manager, his employer's greed will too often keep him 
without his good conduct ticket for years ; and if he is 
naturally depraved, the system will make him ten times 
worse. It wants thorough reform, sir, at the hands of 
some wise, humane, far-sighted man. Good Heavens, 
Captain, you surely don't imagine that an affluent land 
like this has no future before it! Why, the convicts 
of to-day will be the progenitors of the patriots and 
legislators of to-morrow, if you will only give them a 
chanca" 

Sir James Bennett watched Jack intently during 
this speech, which had been listened to by the whole 
company, and he was about to say something, when 
Major Browne interposed rather stiffly: 

“ You refer, of course, to the administration of the 
convict system in the Maitland district where you 
have resided, Mr. Bennett. How, we have been talk- 
ing this morning about the case of the bushranger 
Salathiel. I hear that he had an honourable man for 
his master at Eurimbla, and yet, see the trouble he has 
given the authorities since he became an outlaw! 
What are you to do with such men but flog and hang 
them ? Do you regard his as an exceptional case ? " 

The barrister's keen grey eyes twinkled, and he 
smiled as the company awaited the schoolmaster's 
reply. 

“ Did you ever come across Jack Salathiel ? " asked 
the teacher abruptly, lifting his coffee cup to his lips, 
and resting his other hand, holding his cigar, upon 
the table, while he awaited the reply. 

u Ho, thank God ! " said the Major haughtily. 
“ Bushranging is unknown upon the south coast, and 
it is years since I was in Maitland." 


THE OUTLAW 


116 

“Well, gentlemen,” said Jack slowly, as though he 
were weighing every word, “ I have both met this 
notorious bushranger and spoken with him ; and, would 
you believe it ? he is so much like me in face and form, 
and speech and gesture, that we might be taken for 
the same man. He could do all that I can, even to 
teaching a school; you remember he was assistant book- 
keeper on Eurimbla station at the time he took to the 
Bush. It was the threat of being flogged for an unin- 
tentional offence to his master which drove him out, 
and, blit for that threatened flogging, he might to-day 
have been an honest and useful member of society.” 

Jack’s voice trembled with suppressed emotion and 
excitement ; he was moved almost to tears, and the four 
men looked at him surprised. 

Before another word could be spoken, however, the 
sharp report of a pistol was heard outside, and Dan 
Morley’s voice shouted: “Bail up! Bail up!” amid 
a succession of female screams and general uproar. 

The whole party instantly sprang to their feet; but 
Sir James Bennett’s double-barrelled pistol covered the 
school-teacher. 

“ Hands up, Jack Salathiel! ” he cried, “ or you are 
a dead man.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


THE RESCUE OF SALATHIEL 

A QUARTER of a minute is a long interval when 
it occurs in the midst of a crisis such as that de- 
picted in our previous chapter, but for fully that period 
of time the five men stood without speaking. Sir 
James Bennett’s sudden threat and drawn pistol came 
upon all, except himself and Salathiel, like a bolt from 
the blue. 

The danger without, whatever it might be, was for 
the moment forgotten in presence of the drama which 
was being enacted before their own eyes. Could it be 
possible that Sir J ames Bennett would shoot the school- 
teacher with whom he had just lunched ? Shoot him 
in the presence of their host, over the very table at 
which, with such good fellowship, they had partaken of 
his hospitality! There must be some stupendous mis- 
take; the well-bred scholarly teacher was surely 
threatened by a madman. Colonel Thompson, who 
was as chivalrous as he was brave, was about to strike 
up the barrister’s pistol, when Salathiel broke the 
silence : 

“ Listen to me, gentlemen. I am Jack Salathiel the 
bushranger and school-teacher; but I assure you I am 
perfectly innocent of any ill intention towards Major 
Browne or this company; nor have I any knowledge 
of the tumult and discharge of fire-arms outside. I 
117 


THE OUTLAW 


118 

came here to-day on a peaceful errand, concerning the 
new school at the Bluff ; if this station is really ‘ stuck 
up ’ by bushrangers, I am no party to it. To the best 
of my knowledge all my men, save one, who came over 
with a message from the gang, praying me to return 
to them, are many miles away from this district. Be- 
lieve me, I would not, for the wealth of New South 
Wales, violate your hospitality by permitting any dis- 
turbance or outrage which my authority over lawless 
men could prevent Let us be seated again, and I 
pledge my honour as a man, outlaw though I be, that 
no harm or loss shall come to. any one here to-day. If 
I fail in this, let Sir James shoot me for a liar and the 
deceiver of those with whom I have to-day shared the 
Major’s hospitality.” 

Jack, regardless of Sir James Bennett’s threatening 
pistol, sat down, and the whole party followed his 
example. 

“ Send out one of your servants,” said the barrister 
sharply, “ and ask whoever heads the gang to step 
right in here.” 

A few moments passed and Dan Morley, armed to 
the teeth, with two others of the gang close behind him, 
stood in the doorway. Instantly, on noting the posi- 
tion of things, every man in the room was covered 
by the pistols of the bushrangers. 

“ Put down your weapons. I don’t thank you, Dan 
Morley, for this,” said, Jack sternly. 

“ Captain,” said Dan, without lowering his pistols, 
which were aimed, the one at Sir James Bennett and 
the other at the Major, “ we’ll drop our shooting-irons 
when you’re uncovered, but by the Lord Harry, if 
you’re shot we’ll put daylight through every man in 


THE RESCUE OF SALATHIEL 119 

the room, and burn down the station into the bargain. 
The gang’s outside, and it’s not likely we are going to 
see you shot or taken in a trap without a flutter.” 

“ I think, Sir James,” said Colonel Thompson 
quietly, “ it will save a good deal of unpleasantness if 
we take the schoolmaster at his word.” 

“Drop your pistols, men,” said Jack again, “these 
gentlemen are my friends.” 

“ It doesn’t look much like it, Captain,” said Dan 
grimly, but he lowered his weapon, and the men behind 
him did the same. 

Sir James Bennett instantly placed his pistol on the 
table in front of him. 

“Dan Morley,” said Jack, “you say that the whole 
gang are around the place; tell these gentlemen truly 
how they are here and how it came about.” 

“ Well, gentlemen^ as you are friends of the captain, 
it is all off I suppose ; but we heard of this as a likely 
place to make a start with in a new district, so we 
came over to know if the captain didn’t want us. The 
gang heard on the road that he was down here teach- 
ing school, so we followed on his tracks, thinking to 
kill two birds, as the saying is, with one stone.” 

“ Had I any knowledge of your intentions ? ” asked 
Jack. “ Tell the whole truth now.” 

“ Devil a bit, Captain ! ” 

“ That’s enough, lads,” said Salathiel. “ Get out- 
side and wait until I come to you, and, unless you hear 
a shot fired, let no one enter this house again without 
my orders.” 

In a moment the barrels of two shining pistols lay 
in front of Jack, on the table. They had been thrown 
across by Dan, and deftly caught, and were placed to- 


120 


THE OUTLAW 


gether by Jack, confronting the pistol of Sir James. 

Jack smiled as the men were heard leaving the house, 
and stood up. “ Major Browne,” he said, addressing 
that gentleman, “ I think the best service I can render 
you and these gentlemen, is to get my men quietly away 
from the station and the neighbourhood. I need 
trouble you no further about the school; I have learnt 
some wholesome lessons over at the Bluff, and wish 
yourself and the people of this district well. I swear 
to God, bad as you may think me, that, but for this 
accursed convict system, I had rather lead an honest 
life as a poor school-teacher, and be respected and be- 
loved by the children of a country school than be the 
owner of ill-gotten wealth and the captain of a gang 
of outlaws. I will leave your kind memorandum, Sir 
J ames, upon my plate, where the servant placed it, and 
if you are on the northern circuit at any time, we may 
meet again. While I play bushranger luck is usually 
with me; we may play another game yet, and I may 
win the rubber. When I try to act the honest man 
luck seems to go the other way, as it has done here. 
However, I will leave this district with a clean sheet, 
and if any of my men have sullied the name of John 
Bennett, schoolmaster, by robbery under arms, or other- 
wise, it shall be made good, with ample interest. . . . 
Butler ! ” he called out to that worthy, who stood 
trembling in the doorway, “ tell one of my men to 
bring round my horse ; the one the lady rode upon into 
the station this morning. . . . Your health, gentle- 
men!” said Jack, pouring out a glass of wine. “I 
apologise sincerely to the Major and to you all for 
this day’s happenings; but my only intention was to 
come and go as John Bennett, the school-teacher, for 


THE RESCUE OF SALATHIEL 121 


whom the children and parents of the Broadliaven dis- 
trict will, I think, have some good words. I will now 
only ask you to remain in this room for one half-hour 
by that clock, while my men get fairly started upon 
the road; that I leave to your honour as gentlemen! 
Should we he followed, however, remember that we 
are a dozen or so desperate men, and I will not be an- 
swerable for the consequences.” 

Suddenly, to the surprise of all, Sir James Bennett 
rose from his chair and filled a glass of wine. “ Here’s 
to our next meeting, J ack Salathiel ! ” he said. 
“ Whatever else you may be, you are a brave man.” 

Captain Fraser whispered something to Jack as, 
pistols in hand, he was about to leave the room. 

u No ! no ! ” said the bushranger. “ Don’t you see 
the luck is against me when I try to be honest? But 
I am deeply grateful to you.” 

A quarter of an hour afterward, the last of the 
bushrangers might have been seen disappearing lei- 
surely over the hill. The men were making in the di- 
rection of their old haunts, and Salathiel had prom- 
ised to meet them at Musselbrook, where he thought 
a good haul might be made to compensate them for 
their present disappointment. 


CHAPTER XVII 


AFTERTHOUGHTS AND EXPLANATIONS 

6 £ T)OUR me a glass of that port, Thompson,” said 
A Major Browne huskily, when they had listened 
to the last departing horse-hoof. The Major was evi- 
dently nervous and agitated. “ IPs one of the most 
remarkable episodes I can recall,” he continued. 
“ The butler here says that they have not stolen a 
thing, or hurt a single person on the station; the fire- 
arms were let off to frighten the men. That Salathiel 
is a most remarkable and dangerous character. He has 
played the schoolmaster down here to perfection; he 
has a good knowledge of the classics, plays the flute 
remarkably well, and behaves himself like a gentleman. 
Why, I took the chair at the opening of his school ! — 
and yet he is a common highway robber. It’s most 
astonishing ! ” 

The Major stood up in his excitement; but the bar- 
rister lifted his hand and motioned him to his seat 
again. “ Pardon me, Major,” he said, “ but we are 
under promise to remain here for half an hour; and 
they might return.” 

“ Just so! just so! ” ejaculated the Major, somewhat 
hurriedly resuming his seat. “ Certainly,” he con- 
tinued, “ we had him on his best behaviour, and we 
saw his best parts; but he is evidently a most danger- 
ous man — never once flinched — and bore himself 
122 


AFTERTHOUGHTS 


123 

with wonderful address and courage, even with that 
pistol of yours, Bennett, clapped close to his eyes ! ” 

“ Where did he come from, Major ? ” asked Colonel 
Thompson, abruptly. 

“ I know nothing about him,” replied the Major, 
“ except that he came to the Bluff from Maitland way, 
and sent some satisfactory testimonials to the School 
Committee. Of course, he has been personating some 
one of the name of Bennett; but ask Sir James, he 
seems to know more about him than any one else. By 
the way, what was that memorandum he referred to? 
There is the paper on his plate.” 

“ I wrote that before lunch,” said the barrister, 
laughing; “you know, I thought I recognised him 
some time before; but I was not certain then; but I 
made my plans, and put a pistol in my pocket, in case 
of any unexpected emergency. Read the paper out to 
us, Captain Fraser.” 

The Master of the Nancy Lee read the threatening 
lines with evident astonishment. 

“Good!” exclaimed the Major, pouring himself 
out another glass of wine. “ Read it again, Captain.” 

“ You are Jack Salathiel, the notorious bushranger,” 
read the Captain. “ I do not wish to make a dis- 
turbance ; but if, after reading this, you rise from your 
seat, or place your hands beneath the table, you will 
at once be shot.” 

“ And yet,” exclaimed the Captain, “ he drank his 
coffee, and talked quietly to me afterwards and he did 
not know but that he might be shot dead at any mo- 
ment! I remember how he kept his hands upon the 
table, and held a teaspoon in one, and his cigar in the 
other, while he made that speech about the convict 


THE OUTLAW 


124 

system; but, Sir James, who is he, and how did you 
come to recognise him ? ” 

Any one watching Colonel Thompson’s face might 
have noticed its pallor and the anxious expression with 
which he looked across at Sir James Bennett. He 
leaned forward in his anxiety to hear what the bar- 
rister had to say. Prom the moment Salathiel’s name 
had been first mentioned at the luncheon, he had been 
strangely quiet, and he was wondering now how much 
Sir James Bennett really knew about the man. It 
has already been hinted that Salathiel was very well 
connected on his mother’s side; but it was not gener- 
ally known that the Thompsons were connected with 
Mrs. Salathiel’s people by marriage, and that Colonel 
Thompson’s eldest son had been a personal friend and 
companion of Jack Salathiel in their college days. It 
is no wonder that the Colonel listened to what the bar- 
rister had to say with strained attention. He was a 
proud man, and to have his family in any wav con- 
nected with this notorious outlaw galled him to the 
quick. 

“ I never forget a face,” said the Sydney barrister 
with great deliberation. “ It has been part of my 
training to remember; it helps me in my profession. 
When I was a junior, several years ago, I was at this 
man’s trial at Quarter Sessions. He has altered a 
good deal, but the scar upon his forehead helped me 
to identify him. What first aroused my suspicion was. 
that I knew that he was not John Bennett, a school- 
teacher, late of Maitland, because I happen to have 
met that individual before ; in fact, he is a distant rela- 
tive of mine, although I know very little about him. 
It was knowing that he was not the John Bennett, of 


AFTERTHOUGHTS 


125 

Maitland, that aroused my suspicions, and set my mind 
working to discover his identity. 

“ You see, gentlemen, I looked at it in this way; 
here was an educated, gentlemanly man, of about thirty 
years of age, impersonating another, and, as a lawyer, 
every professional instinct was naturally aroused. 
You know, to he any good in law, a man must have 
the gift of observation strongly developed, he must see 
more than does the average observer, and hear 
more than does the average listener. I believe that 
something in my manner — quite unintentional, I as- 
sure you — warned him that I was on his track; but 
he was a splendid quarry, and it was really great sport 
to hunt such a criminal into a comer. The first time 
I caught his eye, I knew that I carried my life in my 
hand while doing so. 

“ But let me explain ; first, I marshalled all the 
known facts I could get hold of about him. You 
remember that he was exceptionally well-dressed 
— dressed above his station in life ? He wore an 
expensive gold watch and trinkets. He rode a fine 
thorough-bred horse, a perfect match with one I had 
seen on old Downing’s run, up at Musselbrook; he 
had a scar on his forehead, and a J ewish into- 
nation in his pronunciation of certain words, which 
suggested to me that he read Hebrew. I saw the 
shape of what I thought was a pistol in his breast 
pocket; then he had come from Maitland, and the 
thought came to me, as if by an intuition : ‘ It’s 
Salathiel the bushranger.’ But I was not sure; how- 
ever, on the suspicion that I might be right, I at once 
formed a plan of action, and wrote the memorandum, 
believing that during the luncheon I would have an 


126 


THE OUTLAW 


opportunity to confirm or disprove my suspicions. 

“ Now, the lawyer who defended him at the trial — it 
was old Jones, Q.C. ; he is dead since — made a lot of 
his youthful talents, and it came out at the trial that 
he played the flute. You remember my asking him if 
he did not often lead the school singing with a flute, 
and I trapped him into an acknowledgment that he 
could read Hebrew; you see, on his father’s side, 
Salathiel’s people are Jews. But once we got talking 
about his school, and chaffing him about his horse, and 
heard his opinions about the convict system, the evi- 
dence as to his identity was overwhelming, so that there 
was nothing very clever about my identification of 
him.” 

“ I think it was amazingly clever,” said the Major ; 
“ such a thing never occurred to me ; but you say his 
people are well-to-do folk in Sydney ? ” 

“ Yes, that is so; his father is head partner in the 
big firm of Drosena & Co., Ltd. ; but the name 
Salathiel does not appear in the business. The old 
man owns a lot of property in Darlinghurst, and they 
keep a carriage and servants. Of course, they don’t 
own him now ; but he is the only son.” 

“ What was he convicted for ? ” asked Captain 
Fraser. 

“ He stole a rare copy of a classic from a fellow 
student when he was reading for the law at the uni- 
versity. He said he only meant to borrow it; but it 
was that which got him first into trouble. It was a 
son of old Bramley’s of the Treasury he stole it from, 
and there had for long been a feud between the two 
families. But the young fool made it worse by as- 
saulting an official in uniform, who accompanied the 
officer that arrested him; that’s when he got that scar. 


AFTERTHOUGHTS 


127 

He might have got off for the theft, for the general 
opinion was that he never meant to steal the book ; but 
to strike a uniformed official, when on duty, is an un- 
pardonable crime in Hew South Wales. I thought, in 
view of his age, the sentence was a very severe one ; 
but old ‘ Blood and Thunder ’ was on the Bench (a 
friend of the Bramleys’), and he made an example of 
him. I saw him afterward, in a chain-gang on the 
roads. What he said is perfectly true, this convict 
system of ours is damnable, and needs reform. But 
for his one tremendous misadventure, he might now 
have been a barrister, wearing silk — he’s clever too 
— might perhaps have put my nose out of joint at the 
Bar!” 

“ But you didn’t really intend to shoot him,” said 
the master of the Nancy Lee , who evidently had a 
kindly feeling for the outlaw. 

“ Yes, I did,” replied the barrister. “ I would not 
have killed him, unless I was obliged; but remember, 
it was my life against his, if he could once have got 
his hand upon his pistol. You know, he was abso- 
lutely in a corner, or he would have denied the truth 
of my memorandum at once, and have sworn that it 
was a case of mistaken identity; but he knew that in 
such a case we should have detained him. His rescue 
by his men was no doubt a stroke of marvellous luck 
for him. And for that matter, why shouldn’t I have 
shot him? Whatever he was once, he is now a thief 
and an outlaw, preying upon society and terrorising 
hundreds of good folk in the district. Besides, this 
bushranging by escaped convicts needs to be put down 
with a strong hand ; then too, it might have helped me 
with the jury in the big case I have coming on at 
Sydney; and, I was forgetting, there’s a Government 


128 


THE OUTLAW 


reward for him — five hundred pounds, dead or alive. 
My friend, the Major here, is a magistrate, so he could 
not have objected; but I am glad now that I did not 
shoot him, for, as I told him before we parted, what- 
ever else he may be, Jack Salathiel is a brave man. I 
wish, with all my heart, that all our outlaws were like 
him. I’d feel inclined to offer them free pardons, and 
ship them out of the Colony to some place where they 
might have a chance of making a fresh start. 

“ I hope those confounded newspaper people won’t 
get hold of the details of this affair,” said Colonel 
Thompson. “ They’ll say it was not very creditable 
to us to let him escape. I think that you may take 
the bushranger’s word for it, Major, that this district 
won’t be troubled with his gang again.” 

“ Well, after all,” said Captain Fraser, “ I really 
believe that the fellow is not bad at heart, and that 
he has been made what he is almost wholly by 
circumstances.” 

“ Whatever our opinion of him may be,” said Major 
Browne sententiously, “ he is a bushranger, and the 
sooner he is inside the walls of one of Her Majesty’s 
jails, the better for the Colony.” 

“ My word, though ! ” exclaimed the Colonel, 61 I’d 
like to lead a regiment, old as I am, composed of men 
of the strength and pluck of this Salathiel.” 

“ The half-hour is up,” said Sir James, rising from 
his chair, “ and as we have fulfilled our part of his 
confounded contract, we’d better have a look round, 
and see how the ladies are; and the sooner we set the 
troopers on Salathiel’s track the better. We shall be 
laughed at, no doubt; but he is a cool, plucky cuss. 
No wonder he wouldn’t sell you his horse, Colonel.” 


CHAPTER XVIII 


BACK TO BUSHRANGIKG 

T HE gang rode leisurely up the long hill without 
any attempt to get under cover, Dan Morley and 
Salathiel bringing up the rear. They were too for- 
midable a party to fear any present pursuit. They 
were heading for the wild country beyond the Bluff, 
which would take them well to the west of Sydney, 
through a very partially settled country, which skirted 
the Blue Mountain Ranges. 

O’Brien’s public-house was on the other side of the 
big hill, to the north of the Bluff settlement, and here 
Salathiel paid for everything wanted in the shape of 
meat and drink and all they cared to carry in their 
swags. It so happened that the publican had never 
met Salathiel, so they were able to pass themselves off 
as a squad of bounty emigrants on the look out for land. 
There was some discontent on the part of a few of 
the men, at what they called the captain’s childish tom- 
foolery in letting Broadhaven Station off so cheaply; 
but they one and all feared his strong arm and master- 
ful personality, and supposed he had some card up his 
sleeve they did not know of. At any rate, he had 
promised to meet them in four days’ time at Dough- 
boy Hollow, near Musselbrook, and they were going to 
rob the Bank, and, as Dandy Snow put it, “ play old 

Humphrey with the town.” 

129 


i 3 o THE OUTLAW 

When Salathiel had seen the last of them disappear 
in the Bush, he turned Eleetfoot south once more in 
the direction of the school-house road. There were no 
fences here, and the horse at once quickened his pace, 
and pulled at the reins to bo off, eager to reach the 
feed of maize and sweet lucerne hay which he knew 
awaited him. But Jack had no intention of riding 
direct to the school-house ; it was much too risky, so he 
kept well off the road, and made for the Boulder Cave, 
where he had secreted Dan. 

Here everything seemed quiet and undisturbed, so, 
dismounting, he led Fleetfoot a short distance up the 
spur, to a cave which had been opened up and made 
to serve for a stable. Here horse-feed and other neces- 
saries were ready to hand, for Salathiel was a master 
of detail. Tied up and groomed, with his nose deep 
in the rough manger, Jack left the horse to have a look 
around, and to reconnoitre the vicinity of the school- 
house. He felt certain that he would run no danger in 
visiting his old shanty that night; there was not a 
policeman within fifty miles of him, and none of the 
local residents — even those at the station — would be 
likely to hazard an encounter with so formidable a 
band of outlaws ; but he would be careful and not take 
unnecessary risks. 

Before leaving, he went over to see how Dan had 
left the dwelling cave, for it occurred to him that he 
would probably come back after his visit to the school- 
house and have a couple of hours’ sleep there. It was 
still quite light as he pulled aside the branches of the 
fig-tree to enter, then he made his way round the boul- 
der and stood in the cave. Dan had been a sailor once, 
and was neat and orderly in his habits, so everything 


BACK TO BUSHRANGING 13 1 

was straight and tidy, as might have been expected; but, 
stooping, Jack picked up a small parcel fastened with 
a hair-pin; it contained a girl’s handkerchief, quite 
new, and embroidered in red silk were the letters 

“ T. G.” 

Jack’s astonishment and consternation were little 
less than Robinson Crusoe’s when he found the 
... famous footprint on the sand. 

“ Great Scott ! ” he exclaimed, overwhelmed with 
astonishment. “ Tot Gardiner must have been up 
here with Dan Morley, and has dropped this out of her 
pocket. Goodness knows, she may come hack this very 
evening looking for it ! ” 

He went otf presently, greatly disturbed in mind, to 
reconnoitre further. Had he stayed another hour, he 
would have seen Tot herself ride up to the cave, looking 
for her lost property. She was evidently familiar with 
the place, for, not finding it, she went straight up to 
the cave where Fleetfoot was feeding, and patting his 
glossy neck, said : “ I suppose your master picked it 

up; take care of him, old man, it won’t be long before 
we shall meet again. I’m sick of this old one-horse 
show in the Broadhaven Valley, and I’m going to see 
a bit of life, like other people. They can’t take me up, 
for I’m only a girl, but I’m as strong as most of them, 
and the gang will soon know that a Broadhaven girl 
knows how to take care of herself. And to think that 
chump of a Bob Carey thought I’d take up with the 
likes of him ! ” 

Alas, wild and daring as she was, Tot Gardiner little 
knew the roughness of the life which those same out- 
laws lived, amid the wild fastnesses of the Liverpool 
Ranges ! 


THE OUTLAW 


132 

When Jack reached the school-house it was after 
sun-down. He felt that it might be dangerous to stay 
over long, for there was no knowing what the Major, 
and Colonel, and Sir James might be up to. It was 
possible that the school-house might be surrounded be- 
fore morning; but he did not hurry. He wrote a 
short letter to Mrs. Carey, thanking her for all her 
kindness, and enclosed one to Betsy. Then he shaved 
and cut some of his hair off; he put some things he 
wanted into a large leather valise, to be strapped in 
front of his saddle. He also carefully destroyed, in the 
fire, all traces of John Bennett, schoolmaster, except 
the school books and the flute, which, in his letter, he 
had left to the keeping of Betsy. He tied up the two 
canes in the green hide calf-skin, and addressed them 
to Mr. Silas Stump, with Jack Salathiel’s compli- 
ments; then he tidied up the place, leaving the key 
outside. 

He was clean shaved now, with hair cut short; and 
any one meeting him might have taken him for a well- 
to-do squatter. Certainly he had no longer the school- 
teacher look about him. He had some supper and a 
glass of brandy, and went up and slept for two hours 
in the cave, until the moon was fairly up. Then he 
took a last look around the flat and down the gorge; it 
was a very still night, and he could faintly hear the dis- 
tant roar of the breakers on the Broadhaven beach. 
He gave a last look in the direction of Betsy Carey’s 
— he guessed she might be the first one at the school- 
house on the morrow — then with the whispered words : 
“ Exit John Bennett, schoolmaster ! ” he lifted himself 
into the saddle and passed through the trees, over the 
saddle-back to the north-west, into the Bush. 


BACK TO BUSHRANGING 133 

It was a lonesome, moonlit ride across country, be- 
fore he struck the Sydney road; but next morning, 
soon after eight o’clock, he was breakfasting like a lord 
at the best hostelry in Camden. 

He might well stroke Fleetfoot’s glossy mane, and 
pat his neck, and call him pet names the horse seemed 
to know the meaning of. 

“ I would not have sold you to the Colonel for five 
hundred pounds, old man,” he whispered ; “ we’ll beat 
them yet before they get to Musselbrook, and spend a 
day, maybe, under the very nose of Major Moore, in 
Sydney.” 

Ah ! he was young, and the future was hidden from 
him, and hot blood flowed in his veins; he was free 
again; yes, free, although an outlaw. Yet those six 
weeks teaching school at the Bluff had wonderfully 
changed the man. A sense of honour still urged him 
to be true to the gang which had, with one voice, made 
him their captain; but Amos Gordon’s words often 
came back to him, and Mrs. Carey and Betsy were not 
forgotten. He laughed as he pictured to himself the 
bewilderment of Major Browne and the Committee. 
What a song they would make about it ! It would be 
in the Sydney and Maitland papers: how they would 
rub it into the authorities ! They might do even as did 
Governor Macquarie in 1814, when, bewildered and 
almost in despair at the growth of bushranging, he 
offered a free pardon to all bushrangers who, not hav- 
ing been guilty of murder, would, within six months of 
the date of his proclamation, return to their duty, and 
undertake to lead honest lives. He chuckled over the 
knowledge that not one thing had been stolen, nor an 
individual hurt, at Broadhaven Station; and he had 


THE OUTLAW 


134 

slipped right out of their hands, even when covered 
by Sir James Bennett’s pistol. It was a great joke; it 
would be the talk of the whole Colony. 

And yet, for all this exultation, there was still a bad 
taste in Salathiel’s mouth; he felt keenly the loss of 
the good opinion, well-earned, of his fellow-men. 
Good clothes and plenty of money at command, not- 
withstanding, he was again a homeless outlaw, living 
a bushranger’s reckless life, with a rope around his 
neck, which any day might be fastened to a gallows. 


CHAPTER XIX 


TOT gardener disappears 

T OT GARDINER’S sister Judy, nicknamed by 
the juveniles “ Miss Smicker,” and by others 
“ the girl with the smile,” was a rough, but good- 
tempered and kind-hearted damsel of seventeen. She 
was broad, tall, and finely proportioned, like her sister ; 
but, unlike that of her sister, her handsome, freckled 
face carried a continual smile. 

She smiled in fair weather and in foul, whether she 
was right or wrong, pleased or displeased. Her smile 
aggravated her mother and sister, and a few others; 
but it won her multitudes of friends, for Judy’s smile, 
to quote again, “ didn’t wear out, nor wash out, nor 
rub off, and ’twas always natural.” 

Early on the morning following Jack’s departure, 
Judy rode up to the Careys on a big roan mare in hot 
haste; she had a bag strapped on for a saddle, and 
jumped off right in front of Mrs. Carey’s dairy. That 
lady was busy butter-making. It was a quarter past 
seven, the milking was done and breakfast over, and 
the younger Carey boys were feeding the calves with 
sour milk and hay tea, while the girls were busy scald- 
ing the big tin milk dishes. 

“ Whatever brings you over so early, J udy ? ” asked 
Mrs. Carey. u Nothing wrong, I hope, at home ? ” 

“ No-o,” said Judy, hesitating a little. 

135 


THE OUTLAW 


136 

“ Then wait a minute.” Mrs. Carey’s quick ear 
had noted a change in the sound of the splash of the 
big barrel churn. 

“ The butter’s come,” said Mrs. Carey. “ Stop 
churning, Alice. Don’t you know that when the but- 
ter’s come, all the churning in the world won’t make 
another ounce ? Some folks churn and chum until all 
the grains are gathered into big lumps, and then you 
have to work it no end, to get the buttermilk out. 
Bun the buttermilk off, child, and wash it down, and 
I’ll come and give you a turn of the handles for the 
second washing.” 

“ Has Tot been over here this morning ? ” asked 
Judy, and although she had an anxious look on her 
face, the wonted smile stole round her red, fresh lips, 
and dimpled her cheeks, and sparkled in her eyes, 
“ ’Cos mother sent me over.” 

This Australian country girl was a pleasant picture, 
as she stood there with rosy cheeks, in the fresh 
morning; brown curly hair filled up the space between 
her smooth forehead and the starched open frills of her 
big hood; she wore a tightly fitting bodice of a large 
flower-coloured, chintz pattern print, her arms were 
bare, and a white kerchief was knotted, sailor fashion, 
around her shapely neck. She wore a short skirt, dark, 
thick stockings, and Blucher boots. “ She’ll be just 
like Tot in a year or two,” thought Mrs. Carey, “ but 
a bit more wholesome and refined.” 

“ Have any of you children seen Tot Gardiner this 
morning?” called out Mrs. Carey loudly, so that all 
could hear. 

“ Ho, Mother,” was the general response. 

“Do you think Mr. Carey or Bob might have seen 


TOT GARDINER DISAPPEARS 137 

her?” asked Judy, smiling again, as she cleverly 
linked the father with the son, for she knew that Mrs. 
Carey did not approve of Tot’s friendliness with her 
first-born. 

“ I don’t think so ; my good man is out in the run, 
and Bob’s ploughing in the far paddock. You can 
go over and ask him if you like; but come in when you 
return and drink a cup of warm milk and have some- 
thing to eat. I’ll be bound you rode over without any 
breakfast.” 

J udy returned unsuccessful, and Mrs. Carey took her 
into the house, where Betsy was busy, with two big 
camp ovens, baking the family bread. 

“ Halloo, J udy girl ! what’s the matter ? ” was 
Betsy’s cordial greeting. 

“ Can’t find Tot anywhere,” said Judy. 

“ Perhaps she’s gone after that missing steer,” said 
Betsy, who knew a good deal about the Gardiners’ 
affairs. 

“ No,” said Judy, “ she’s not gone anywhere, she’s 
disappeared.” 

“ What rubbish ! ” said Mrs. Carey. “ If the girl 
has disappeared, she must have gone somewhere.” 

“ But,” replied J udy, “ she can’t have gone any- 
where, she hasn’t taken her clothes.” 

“ Whatever do you mean, child ? ” 

“Just what I say, Mrs. Carey, and that’s what’s 
troubling mother and me; her clothes are all laid on 
the stool, just as she went to bed last night, and every- 
thing is there, except her stockings and boots.” 

“ My goodness ! ” exclaimed Betsy, laughing, for she 
knew something of Tot’s erratic ways. “Whatever 
can have happened to her ? ” 


THE OUTLAW 


138 

For a while they looked at each other; then Mrs. 
Carey said: “I daresay, Judy, she’s back by this; 
anyhow I’ll look after the bread, and Betsy shall ride 
over with you, and see what she can do to help. And, 
Betsy, you come back for more assistance to search for 
her if necessary. Come back by dinner time, at latest, 
and let us know.” 

Betsy and Judy went off together to saddle Loiterer, 
and Mrs. Carey, with a thoughtful face, gave a look 
to the bread, and then returned to the dairy. “ Very 
strange indeed, that the girl should be missing, and 
have left her clothes behind,” she thought. 

But still more astonishing news was at hand, for, 
just as the girls were mounting, a galloping horse was 
heard approaching. It was Ned Driver, in his shirt 
sleeves, on a sweating steed. 

“ Where’s the boss, Mrs. Carey ? ” he called out as 
he pulled up. “ Heard the news ? ” he continued with- 
out waiting for an answer. 

“ W T hat news ? ” was the general cry. 

“Why, the schoolmaster’s gone, and he’s Jack 
Salathiel, the bushranger, and he’s had his gang over 
and they ‘ stuck up ’ Major Browne’s station, and have 
taken no end of money and cattle. The Major’s sent 
to Sydney for the police, and there’s the mischief to 
pay all round.” 

u Ned, you’ve gone daft,” said Betsy, as no one else 
spoke; but a cold chill came over her. 

“ It’s gospel truth though,” said Ned. “ I alius 
thought there was something queer about the chap, 
’cos he wouldn’t flog the kids; but I wish him luck, 
for he’s done us no harm. You should see Silas 
Stump, and hear him orating, he’s found his tongue 


TOT GARDINER DISAPPEARS 139 

properly ! Tell the boss there’s to be a committee 
meeting at school, at 2.30; I’m riding round to let 
them know.” 

“ Have you seen our Tot anywhere ? ” asked Judy. 

“ Ho,” said Hed ; “ what’s she been up to ? ” 

“ We can’t find her anywhere, and she hasn’t taken 
her clothes.” 

“ That’s a rum go ; but do you think ? ” He 

stopped, for he hardly knew how to put it* 

“ I don’t think ! I don’t know what to think ! ” 
said Judy, with tears in her eyes. 

“ Well, I’m off,” said Hed, who was bursting to tell 
his news to the next neighbour. “ I’ll keep a look out 
for Tot. So long ! ” 

The children had been listening, and the whole place 
was, by this time, in a fever of excitement. Betsy and 
Judy were hurrying off, when Mrs. Carey stopped 
them. u Ride across to the school-house as you pass. 
I don’t believe it. You’ll very likely find Mr. Ben- 
nett there, or he will have left a letter, or you may 
learn something about Tot. That Hed Driver is a 
fool. Mr. Bennett a bushranger indeed! Why, he’s 
as kind as a kitten, and wouldn’t hurt a child ! ” 

Betsy gave her mother a grateful look ; but the cold 
chill was still at her heart as she rode with Judy across 
the ford of the Bailey River. She remembered his 
words, u I have to go, perhaps you’ll know why some 
day, and not think unkindly of me when others speak 
badly about your old schoolmaster.” Was this what 
he meant? And then, strange as it may seem, the 
girl’s heart went out to him, because he might be 
blameworthy and in trouble. It was as though this 
stupendous fall from the serene height of his previous 


THE OUTLAW 


140 

character brought him within her reach. Losing the 
respect and admiration of others, he would want some 
one to love him and comfort him. Bushranger or not, 
she never doubted him; he was her ideal of manly 
goodness and faithful tenderness. Had she not read 
his character those six weeks in the school ? He would 
never do wrong wilfully. How different he was, she 
thought, to all those louts around him on the country- 
side ! Her idol might have tumbled from his pedestal, 
but if so, he had fallen into her arms, to be loved, and 
served, and prayed for. 

But, even as these strangely mixed thoughts were 
passing through Betsy’s mind, the two girls rode on 
with feverish haste. So far, it should be observed. 
Betsy never gave a thought to Tot Gardiner, who had 
disappeared on the very night of John Bennett’s de- 
parture, and had gone away without her clothes. Tor 
the first time, as it were, she felt Salathiel to be within 
reach. She would sooner have him a bushranger, if it 
made him hers. If only, by being brought low, she 
could throw around him the encircling love of her pas- 
sionate, trustful nature! She never thought of him 
as a criminal; he was to her the good bushranger, who 
would always show an unselfish spirit ; who might take 
money from the rich, but would give it to the poor. 
He would be her Jack, and she would help him, defend 
him, fight for him, and, like a guardian angel, encom- 
pass him with her love. 

It was all very foolish perhaps, very romantic, and 
very outrageous, for a girl to love a man all the more 
because he was a ruined outcast, but there was a proud 
light in Betsy’s eye, and her heart seemed to beat and 
throb with the force of new power and feeling. “ I 


TOT GARDINER DISAPPEARS 141 

love him ! I love him ! ” was the refrain, which came 
and went in her excited mind, like the burden of an old 
song. Soon they were riding at a wild canter, down a 
steepish range ; but what cared Betsy ? Pear she had 
none. Loiterer’s rattling hoofs, on rolling stones and 
rough rocks, were talking to her. It was now an old 
childish rhyme the girls had trolled and laughed over 
scores of times : “ Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, 

apothecary, ploughboy, thief ! 99 and Loiterer stopped 
dead, exactly when she came to the word “ thief.” It 
was unfortunate; hut Tot’s mother just then stepped 
out of the Bush, in front of them. 

“ I’ve no news of Tot,” exclaimed Mrs. Gardiner, 
with an anxious face ; “ and I hear Mr. Bennett is 
gone; and they say he is a bushranger and has taken 
Tot with him; she’s left all her old clothes behind, so 
she must have got new clothes from somewhere. 
Betsy, I’m a poor broken-hearted creature to-day. To 
think that one of my girls should have done such a 
thing, and me a poor widow woman! And to have 
gone off with a common thief ! ” 

“ Don’t you believe it, Mrs. Gardiner,” hurst out 
Betsy, flushing red from cheek to brow, “ I’m sure 
he hasn’t taken Tot. He would never do such a thing, 
even if he is a bushranger. She’ll come back, never 
fear! We’ll all turn out and find her. I’ll ride over 
to the school, and see if Mr. Bennett has really gone. 
Judy, you come with me. If we don’t find out any- 
thing, I’ll ride straight hack and tell mother ; and dad, 
and Bob, and maybe myself’ll ride over again and see 
what can be done. Keep up your heart, Mrs. Gar- 
diner; Judy will he back directly. There’s no fear; 
we all know that Mr. Bennett is a good man.” 


THE OUTLAW 


142 

There was no smoke from the chimney and no sign 
of life when the girls reached the school-house. After 
knocking and calling, Betsy turned the key which Jack 
had left in the door, and they entered the shanty. The 
sealed letter addressed to Mrs. Carey lay on the table, 
with the flute and canes and calf-skin and a few books. 
There was no sign of hasty departure, in either the tidy 
kitchen or sleeping apartment, for Jack had cleaned 
everything up before he went to the station, and the 
heap of ashes in the fire-place told no tales. 

“Tot!” called out Judy, obeying the first impulse 
of her mind. 

“ Don’t be a silly,” said Betsy with some indigna- 
tion. “ Tot hasn’t been here. I’ll take this letter for 
mother to her at once. Let’s go and look inside the 
school ! ” 

Judy had read the inscription on the canes and 
green hide calf-skin, smiling through her tears. Betsy 
laughed outright, and said : “ They’ll have some nuts 

to crack this afternoon. Good gracious, Judy girl, 
don’t cry. Tot’s all right, even if she is with Mr. Ben- 
nett; you know very well that he would never do a 
girl a bit of harm ; but she is not with him, I’m certain 
he wouldn’t let her.” 

The school-house was just as it had been left on the 
Thursday, so, as there was nothing more to be dis- 
covered, Judy, still inclined to tearfulness, went home, 
and Betsy hastened back to her mother with the bush- 
ranger’s letter. 

“ Get up, Loiterer, you lazy thing ! ” Betsy’s heel 
carried no spur, but the vicious dig she gave the pony 
was so unusual that Loiterer made off at a breakneck 
pace for home. The letter to Mrs. Carey, which Betsy 


TOT GARDINER DISAPPEARS 143 

had put carefully into the bosom of her dress, read as 
follows : 

“ My Dear Mrs. Carey : 

“ I cannot do other than write to you before I leave 
this district, for your kindness and Betsy’s, and indeed 
that of your whole family, will be a pleasant memory 
to me as long as I live. I deeply regret that the man- 
ner of my departure may cause pain; but what has 
happened to-day down at Broadhaven Station was 
wholly unexpected. Nor had I any knowledge of the 
gang coming over to this district. Had I been aware 
of their intentions I would have prevented it, even at 
the risk of my life. However, I havq seen to it that 
there has been neither robbery nor violence, and as I 
write this in my old quarters at the school-house, the 
gang is miles off, on their way north, and with my per- 
mission they will never return to alarm or injure the 
people who have treated a stranger with such kind hos- 
pitality and consideration. Of course, I deceived you 
all from the very first; but I came down here for pri- 
vate reasons only, and with no ill intention to the 
Broadhaven Valley people. My desire and purpose 
was to leave as I came, plain John Bennett, school- 
teacher, thinking (fool as I was) that it would be pos- 
sible to come and go, without my true name being 
discovered. But luck was against me. 

“ However, try and think of me as kindly as you 
can. For six weeks you have seen Jack Salathiel, the 
bushranger, as he would like to be, if law, and police, 
and the Colony’s accursed convict system would only 
let him. 

“ Next time Amos Gordon visits you, show him this 


THE OUTLAW 


144 

letter, and tell liim that I have not forgotten his talk 
with us in the school-shanty. If he knows of any way 
by which I might escape from my surroundings, with- 
out being hanged, he might drop a line to J. J. Powell, 
care of G. P. O., Sydney. That will always find me 
while I am alive and free. I am enclosing a few lines 
to Betsy; I can’t leave without doing so; she is a girl 
in a thousand, and has always been good and helpful to 
me in the school. What a farce it seems now, to write 
about the school! 

“ Say good-bye for me to Bob and all the family ; 
and if by any chance, at any time, any of you should 
fall into the hands of outlaws, say to them : ‘ I am a 

Carey/ and, if I can do it, that word shall ensure you 
protection and respect. 

“ J. J. SAEATHIEL.” 

The letter to Betsy was short, and less apologetic: 

“ My Bear Betsy: 

“ What I feared has unexpectedly happened, I have 
been found out and, after writing this to you, I must 
ride for my life. I need not tell you that I meant no 
harm to any one down here. Had it been possible, I 
think I would have stayed on as school-teacher for the 
rest of my life. You will believe me, I know, when I 
say that I am what I am more by misfortune than by 
choice; but I must not go back on my men while they 
remain true and want me. But I’m a miserable man 
at heart, Betsy ; ‘ the good that I would, I do not ; and 
the evil that I would not, that I do ; ’ and there is no 
door of hope open for me, and no strong hand of love 
to help me to go free. I am driven, driven of my 


TOT GARDINER DISAPPEARS 145 

own past folly; and, I cannot help but think, driven by 
the Devil’s power. I deserve of course to be punished ; 
but you know, Betsy, if I gave myself up, it would only 
be going back to a life worse than death, for there is 
no mercy from men for such as me. And yet I too 
am a man, and strong and proud and fearless, and 
some of the gang would die for me. 

“ Take care of the flute, and John Bennett’s school 
books; he was honestly paid for them, and has come 
to no harm. Don’t believe all the bad things you will 
hear or read about me, and give a kindly thought some- 
times to your old friend and schoolmaster. 

“ J. J. Salathiee. 

“ P.S. You know, Betsy, I warned you that this 
might come when I said good-bye to you at the slip- 
rails. You might write to me sometimes.” 

When Betsy read that letter, she made a rash vow — 
that she would either die or save him. 

Mrs. Carey said never a word, but she showed her 
letter to her husband, and told him that he was to 
keep it secret, and that, whatever happened, he was not 
to take any action that would be against the school- 
master. 

So J"ack’s masquerade in the Broadhaven district at 
any rate made him two friends. 


CHAPTER XX 


THE SCHOOL COMMITTEE MEETS 

B Y midday the whole valley was stirred by Ned 
Driver’s sensational story. The news seemed in- 
credible; but it spread like wild-fire, gathering addi- 
tions as it went, until the one topic of conversation was 
the astounding news that a notorious bushranger had 
been teaching their school, and that, with his gang, he 
had “ stuck up ” Major Browne’s station and carried 
off Tot Gardiner. Many of those, however, who had 
best known the schoolmaster doubted. 

“ Mr. Bennett that notorious outlaw, Jack Sala- 
thiel ! ” said Mrs. Lord. “ Really, Ned Driver, it’s 
too ridiculous. The schoolmaster will sue you for 
defamation of character; see if he doesn’t!” Nor 
was Mrs. Lord singular in her unbelief. 

There was a full attendance of the Committee; 
Silas had sent word to the Major, who had promptly 
replied by letter, at considerable length. He would 
certainly ride over, he said, as it would be well to have 
a magistrate present at their deliberations. He 
thought it extremely unfortunate that the School Com- 
mittee should have been the means of introducing such 
a dangerous criminal into the district; he hoped that 
none of the valley people were in league with Sala- 
thiel; certainly, sufficient precautions had not been 
taken in regard to the man’s identity. He was thank- 
146 v 


THE SCHOOL COMMITTEE MEETS 147 

ful that, so far as he knew, no lives had been lost, but 
he warned them against possible further trouble; they 
should certainly arm themselves and see that they had 
ammunition available. If they were short of the 
latter, they could get it at the station, as a consignment 
had just come to hand by the Nancy Lee. 

The Major rode up to the school-house a quarter of 
an hour late, as red as a turkey cock. He was accom- 
panied by one of his overseers and Sir James Bennett, 
and it was noticed that he wore an undress uniform, and 
that all three of the riders carried pistols in their 
holsters. 

Major Browne was voted to the chair; stools were 
found for the Queen’s Counsel and overseer, and the 
Committee sat on desks, or forms, as best suited their 
length of limb or personal ambition. They were some- 
what awed by the Major’s presence and his covert re- 
buke, which Silas had read to them, and were not in 
the best of humour either with themselves, the Major, 
or the business that had brought them together. The 
only thing they were agreed upon was that it was a 
good thing the schoolmaster had got safely away. 
They bore him no ill will, and had no wish to meet, as 
a bushranger, the man they had taken to their hearts 
as a friend. Silas Stump, no doubt, felt more ag- 
grieved than any one else, as he had conducted the cor- 
respondence ; but altogether, the Committee felt its 
position keenly. The climax had come when it was 
whispered around that Salathiel had not only robbed 
Broadhaven Station, but had cleared out with Tot 
Gardiner. Hews of other outrages, they thought, 
would be sure to follow, all of which would naturally 
be laid at the door of the bushranger. 


THE OUTLAW 


148 

The Major, on taking the chair, began business 
without any preface, by saying to the secretary : 
“ Kindly read the minutes of your last meeting, Mr. 
Stump.” He said this in his most magisterial tone of 
voice. 

Silas at once stepped forward and attempted to 
whisper something to him ; but the Major, with a ges- 
ture, signified his dissent, and told him to address the 
chair, in a tone of voice which could be heard by the 
whole Committee. 

It was evident that the secretary felt inclined to 
rebel, for, as he remarked afterwards, the Major wasn’t 
in court, and they were none of them on their trial; 
indeed they had only invited him to be present out of 
courtesy. 

“ It was an irregular meeting,” said the secretary 
nervously, “ and we didn’t take no minutes.” 

“Very unbusinesslike,” said the Major, “ to grant 
your school-teacher leave of absence without entering 
a record upon the minute-book. Kindly read the min- 
utes of your last regular meeting.” 

With a downcast look, the secretary had to confess 
that he had not brought the minute-book. At this the 
whole Committee stared in reproof at the unfortunate 
Silas, and the Major grunted out: “ Most unbusiness- 
like; if you carry on your school in this way it is no 
wonder you are taken in by reckless and unprincipled 
men.” 

“ Let us adjourn outside and have a smoke,” sug- 
gested Poddy Carey, “while Silas rides home and 
gets it.” 

“ It’s impossible for me to wait,” said the Major 
loftily. There was a long, awkward silence after this, 


THE SCHOOL COMMITTEE MEETS 149 

when, plucking up courage, Silas broke out in the fol- 
lowing unconventional fashion : 

“ Hang it all, Mr. Chairman, we come here to talk 
over this remarkable ‘ transmigration ’ of the school- 
master into a bushranger, and what we’d best do. I 
don’t see that we want minutes. Let’s hear what we 
can about him, and then decide what record we’ll make 
in the minutes. I’ll take rough notes, and we can 
have another meeting about getting a new schoolmas- 
ter; we can’t do that to-day.” 

This sounded sensible, and there was a general 
chorus of “ Hear, hear!” So the Major stood up, 
and after clearing his throat, told what he knew about 
the schoolmaster’s visit and the attack upon the station. 

This was the first time that the Committee had had 
any full account of the matter, which, on the whole, 
was very fairly stated by the Major, who gave Sala- 
thiel considerable praise for his forbearance and gen- 
tlemanly manner. He also stated that nothing was 
stolen from the station, and no violence done to any- 
body. 

The latter w r as a new aspect of the affair to most 
of them. “ Didn’t they steal some horses ? ” asked 
Sandy McPherson. 

“ They stole nothing,” said the Major decidedly. 
“ Salathiel kept his gang within bounds, out of respect 
for me and my friends.” 

“ Blest if he isn’t a blooming enigma!” ejaculated 
Hed Driver, who could restrain himself no longer. 
“ He’s no bushranger, if he let you off like that.” 

“ Didn’t his chaps have a shot at some of yer men, 
Mr. Chairman ? ” asked Poddy Carey. 

“ Ho, certainly not,” said the Major huffily. “ Did 


THE OUTLAW 


150 

I not tell you that he withdrew his men out of respect 
for myself and my friends ? ” 

“ It seems to me, then,” said Poddy, “ as no one’s 
hurt, and nothing stole, we’ve nought to say agen him, 
unless some of the Committee wish to move a vote of 
thanks to him, for clearing out good-naturedly from 
the district.” 

The barrister smiled at this: but the chairman 
fidgeted in his seat, as though repressing his wrath. 

“ But he’s cleared out with Tot Gardiner,” said 
!Ned Driver. 

“ Is that so?” said the Major, “ then that’s a mat- 
ter to be inquired into by the police. Does any other 
member of the Committee know of any other atroc- 
ity ? ” 

“ I hear that they lifted O’Brien’s blood-mare,” 
said Timothy Pagan, whose selection on the other side 
of the Bluff was not far from the public-house. 

“Ah!” ejaculated the chairman, “ then there has 
been robbery, after all.” 

“ They had refreshments there,” added Timothy, 
“ but the schoolmaster paid for them with a sovereign, 
and the mare was not missed for several hours after- 
ward. Tot used to ride her for him sometimes, as 
the mare was badly broken in; she went down last 
night, I hear, to borrow her, but O’Brien said that he 
wanted the mare himself this morning. It was only 
when he went to get her out of the stable that he found 
that she was gone.” 

“ Some one soldiering 1 her a bit, perhaps,” said 
Poddy. 

1 When a horse is borrowed without asking, and ridden a dis- 
tance and left, it is called “ soldiering ” the animal. 


THE SCHOOL COMMITTEE MEETS 15 1 

“ How long was it after the bushrangers had gone 
that Miss Gardiner called to borrow the mare ? ” asked 
Sir James Bennett. 

u About a couple of hours,” said Timothy Fagan. 

u Is Miss Gardiner a good rider ? ” asked the bar- 
rister. 

The whole Committee smiled at this. They knew 
Tot. “ You bet, sir!” said Timothy, smiling with 
the rest. “ She breaks ’em in, and rides straddle legs 
when they are ugly, and flogs ’em like a man. She’s 
a fine, big girl, sir, is Tot. Bides as well as any man 
in the valley.” 

u And this is the girl that is supposed to have gone 
off with Salathiel ? ” said the barrister. “ Don’t you 
think it is likely that she stole the mare ? ” 

Ho one replied to this, and Silas, who felt hostile to 
the Major and his friends, thinking he saw an oppor- 
tunity, said : “ The Committee evidently does not 

care to charge Tot Gardiner with larceny on such in- 
sufficient evidence.” 

“ Quite right ! ” said the barrister hurriedly. 

The meeting broke up shortly afterward, no busi- 
ness having been done. Ho reference was made by 
Poddy to Salathiel’s letter to his wife, and no arrange- 
ments were made to institute a search for Tot. All 
believed that she had gone off, as Hed Driver said, 
somewhere on her own, and they further agreed that 
she was quite able to take care of herself. 

After the Major and his friends had gone, the Com- 
mittee adjourned to O’Brien’s public-house, to hear 
his story first-hand and sample his whisky. At the 
same time they relieved their feelings by abusing 
the Major and Sir James Bennett, and expressing 


THE OUTLAW 


152 

surprise that Salathiel had let them off so cheaply. 

“ That pore chap is too well eddicated,” said Ned 
Driver, “ to be a bushranger. He ought to have 
stuck to school-teaching; but dear me! he’s no good at 
that, when he’s too tender-hearted to wale the kids.” 

“ He should marry Tot,” said Poddy Carey, “ she’d 
wale ’em for him.” 

“ That School Committee of yours,” said Sir James 
to the Major, as they rode home, “ is a hang-dog looking 
crowd.” 

“ Oh, they’re not a bad lot, but unbusinesslike ! ” re- 
plied the Major. “ You saw them in their working 
clothes; some of them are fairly well-to-do men.” 

“ I would not care to have them for a jury, if I 
were prosecuting Jack Salathiel,” said the barrister. 
“ I should never get a conviction, I’m sure.” 

“ Perhaps not,” said the Major, “ but you see, they 
have only seen Salathiel on his good behaviour ; he and 
his gang will have a break-out soon after this, and then 
they may think differently. They’re a very law-abid- 
ing people about the Bluff. My own opinion is that 
just now the Committee and every one else are quite 
knocked over by this astounding imposition. He might 
have stayed down here as schoolmaster for ever, if 
you hadn’t come along.” 

In the meantime Jack had ridden on another five 
and twenty miles, to the old town of Parramatta. 
After a glance at the newspapers, to see that there was 
no “ hue and cry ” out about him, he put up at the 
Woolpack Inn. He could find no reference whatever 
to the Broadhaven matter in the day’s journals, so, 
feeling more secure, he went into the large room, where 


THE SCHOOL COMMITTEE MEETS 153 

dinner was being served, and took a vacant seat at a 
side table. A clergyman was his vis-a-vis, and a young 
lady and her father and brother occupied the other 
seats; Jack cast his eyes anxiously around, but others 
had entered with him, and every one seemed busy with 
the evening meal. 

The clergyman was telling his friends, who were 
a squatting family from the north-east coast, how a 
Sydney newspaper had just been fined £100 for an 
alleged libellous attack upon the Chief Justice, and 
how, in another matter, the editor had been flogged 
with a horse-whip in Pitt-street by a wealthy emanci- 
pated convict, who, professedly religious, had been 
proved a thorough-paced hypocrite. There was evi- 
dently a good bit stirring, and Jack gathered from the 
conversation that the police had their hands full with 
several gangs of convict bushrangers, who were mak- 
ing the northern roads unsafe for travellers. 

“ I thought of driving into town myself,” said the 
squatter, “ after the moon gets up, but I think I’ll give 
it best until to-morrow. I see there is an official 
notice in the papers, warning travellers to shun the 
Parramatta-road after nightfall, as it is frequented by 
foot-pads. It’s a rotten state of affairs that a main 
public road so close to the metropolis should be in- 
fested by thieves and cut-throats. It’s about time that 
we had representative government, instead of this 
useless council.” 

“ I saw the notice,” said the clergyman, “ but I 
must ride on to Sydney for all that, for I have an 
appointment there to-night and three services to-mor- 
row. I suppose, if I should be waylaid, the scoun- 


THE OUTLAW 


154 

drels will have some respect for the cloth, but I must 
risk it. I may, however, find one or two others in 
this large company who are riding in after dinner. 
I will inquire of our host.” 

Jack noted that the speaker was a fine specimen of 
muscular Christianity, and as the clergyman looked 
at him with a smile, he responded : “ I also have to 

ride to Sydney to-night, sir, and would be glad of the 
pleasure of your company. We might probably find 
another gentleman going, and then I don’t think w r e 
should be troubled by foot-pads.” 

The clergyman looked Jack full in the face for a 
moment, and then, as though satisfied with his scrutiny, 
replied : “ I shall be very pleased. Are you a resi- 

dent of Sydney ? ” 

“ Powell is my name,” replied J ack. “ I belong to 
the south-western district, but business brought me to 
Camden, and I am riding through to Sydney and New- 
castle. May I ask where you officiate to-morrow ? ” 

“ At the new Scotch kirk in Philip-street,” replied 
the minister genially. “ It will please me well to have 
your company to-night upon the road and to-morrow 
at the service. Let me introduce you to my friends, 
Mr. Kobertson, of Mundarra, and his eldest son, and 
Miss Robertson.” 

Nothing could have suited Jack better, for he had 
been thinking how he might obtain a companion to 
ride with to Sydney; not that he troubled about the 
foot-pads, for his pistols and the terror of his name 
would have been ample protection; but just then he 
wanted peace and quietness, and any encounter with 
highwaymen was to be avoided. More than this, he 
knew that so near Sydney mounted police would be 


THE SCHOOL COMMITTEE MEETS 155 

likely to be met with, patrolling the road, who had 
authority to stop and question travellers. He had 
found out, incidentally, that the Rev. William Mc- 
Ewan was not only a prominent Presbyterian clergy- 
man, but a magistrate of the territory, who would be 
well known to the police. A friend riding with a 
clergyman would pass unquestioned, and foot-pads 
would be less likely to attack two horsemen than one. 

The moon was about to rise as Jack and the clergy- 
man turned their horses into the Eastern-road, past 
Harris Park and Homebush. Both were well-armed 
and mounted, for in those days of military chaplains 
and emancipated convicts, clergymen were frequently 
of heroic stuff, and it was well known that some of 
them could, on occasion, both shoot and flog. Jack 
had often heard of Mr. McEwan as a man of scholarly 
attainments, kindly heart, and fearless courage. It 
was in the Philip-street church that his mother and 
sister worshipped, and he congratulated himself on his 
good fortune, for the minister had evidently taken to 
him, as one well suited to his mind. He might, with- 
out discovering himself, be able to hear something of 
his people, and, for the matter of that, there was no 
reason why he should not attend service in the morning, 
and see his mother and sister for himself. 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS 

D AN MORLEY had many a time been told by his 
mother, poor woman, that he was the Devil’s own 
son of mischief. It was this evil propensity, coupled 
with a quick sense of humour, which, even as a man, 
had brought him into no end of trouble. 

When Tot Gardiner, who had got to know the bush- 
ranger through Bob Carey, suggested that she would 
like a trip to Sydney to see some life, Dan trod upon 
enchanted ground; but when she further proposed to 
borrow a neighbour’s blood-mare, and dress up as a man 
in her dead father’s clothes, the fun of the thing was 
irresistible. 

He told her it would be great; that he was sure the 
captain would be delighted at her pluck, even if she 
came and had a look at them in the Liverpool Ranges. 
Of course, he knew very well that Salathiel would 
storm at him, and send the girl home double quick; 
but he determined that he would have his fun out of 
her, for all that, so he arranged to slip away from the 
gang, and meet Tot on the Liverpool-road and ride with 
her to Sydney. 

It was pitiable that she should have been lured by 
an unprincipled outlaw into such a course; but her 
moral sense was deficient, and it was her wild ways 
and a romantic attachment for Salathiel, rather than 
156 


THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS 157 

any regard for Dan Morley, which led her to it. So, 
while she accepted Dan as an escort, it was only to 
serve her own ends, and she resolutely kept him in his 
place. It suited the latter to make the foolish girl 
think of Salathiel only as an unprincipled bushranger, 
whose school teaching had been insincere and merely 
served as a blind for his own purposes, and that her 
mad prank would please and flatter him. 

Dan had proposed that they should spend Sunday 
in Sydney at a quiet public-house where he felt sure 
of a welcome, and he would show Tot, who had never 
been there, the sights of the city. It would give the 
horses a rest, he said, and they could buy anything they 
wanted. 

It so happened, moreover, that Dan was short of 
ready money for a good big spree such as he wanted, 
so he further proposed that on the Saturday night 
they should rob a citizen or two upon the Parramatta* 
road. Dan said it would be great fun to ease a few 
Sydney people of their purses; he knew a place called 
Homebush, some eight or ten miles from town, where 
' the road was cut through a thickish bit of scrub ; which 
would suit their purpose finely; he would “ stick them 
up,” and she could gather in the money. Tot, nothing 
loath, agreed. She suggested, however, that she ought 
to have a pistol ; hut Dan explained that this was wholly 
unnecessary. There would be no need to shoot, he said, 
it would be dark except for a bit of moonlight; he 
would cut a stick for her in the shape of a pistol, which 
would be quite sufficient for her to point at them. 
Hadn’t he robbed a coach one night single-handed, with 
nothing but a cabbage stalk ! 

This arrangement was not considered satisfactory by 


THE OUTLAW 


158 

Tot, but Dan would not give way; he did not care to 
trust women with fire-arms and he preferred to keep 
his in his own possession. It had been settled that the 
girl was to be known as Ted Carey, and the two having 
ridden from the south into the Parramatta-road, pulled 
up at TIomebush, where they proposed to waylay and 
despoil their victims. 

Now it happened that two other south coast people 
were riding through Homebush Hollow to Sydney upon 
this very Saturday night; they were none other than 
the preacher Amos Gordon and the shepherd fiddler 
Bothered Shawn, neither of whom, it should be ex- 
plained, had as yet heard aught of the tremendous hap- 
penings in the valley or at Broadhaven Station. It 
was the annual visit of Amos to the capital, and, as 
Bothered Shawn, wished to see an old relative there, 
Amos had brought him along for company. ‘ They had 
travelled by easy stages, the preacher riding his old 
grey cob, and Shawn a mulish-looking, ambling pony. 
Both had big swags strapped in front of them on the 
saddle. They stayed one night with an acquaintance 
of Gordon’s at Liverpool, and, having made another call 
at Cabramatta, were a bit late in getting into town. 
Needless to say, neither was armed. 

Dan and his companion, after fastening their horses 
some little distance in the Bush, had waited for fully 
an hour, before the sound of shod hoofs was heard in 
the distance. 

“ Hist, Tot ! ” said Dan. “ Do you hear ! there’s a 
couple of money-bags coming along. They’re sure to 
have the dollars, as they haven’t skinned them yet in 
town. You stay here in the bushes, and I’ll get across 
the road; when you hear me call, ‘ Bail up! ’ just jump 


THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS 159 

out and point your stick at ’em, and they will ante up 
in a jiffy.” 

“ But suppose they don’t ? ” whispered Tot. 

“ Oh, but they will ! Now keep quiet and handy, 
until I call out.” 

The horses of the new-comers were evidently tired, 
for they shuffled along downhill into the hollow at little 
more than a w r alk. Then a man’s voice was heard : 
“ Come along, brother Shawn, it’s a bit dark, but we’ll 
canter after this, and we’ll soon see the lights of 
Sydney.” 

It was a smooth, round, sonorous voice, and Tot 
stood in the bushes transfixed, her heart beating like a 
trip hammer. “ Whose voice is that ? ” she asked her- 
self. u Not Amos Gordon’s ; he is miles away.” There 
was no time for thinking, however, for she heard Dan 
shouting : “ Bail up there ! ” 

Tot hesitated, but only for a moment. Leaping out 
on the near side, she caught hold of the pony’s rein, 
and pointing her stick at Bothered Shawn’s astonished 
person, called in as masculine a voice as she could com- 
mand: “ Bail up!” 

There was a pause, as all four of them drew a deep 
breath. Dan was about to speak again, when Amos 
Gordon recovered himself; he was tremendously aston- 
ished at being “ stuck up ” in this fashion, for he had 
not heard of foot-pads on the Parramatta-road. He 
was just about to hand over his purse, when an illumi- 
nating thought occurred to him, and he paused. He 
had a great memory for voices, and somehow there was 
a familiar ring about the stern summons of these two 
men. Where had he heard them? A second’s hesita- 
tion, and suddenly he remembered. 


i6o 


THE OUTLAW 


“ Tot Gardiner ! ” he exclaimed. “ Are you playing 
a trick on an old man? Bless my heart, girl! what 
are you doing dressed up like that, and in company of 
Mr. Flannigan, of the Wollombi, bailing up your old 
friends ? ” 

A further pause followed, and then Tot said sol- 
emnly : “ Dan, we’re regular busted, it’s old Amos 

Gordon and Bothered Shawn ! ” 

“ You dashed idiot,” whispered Dan savagely, “ keep 
quiet, you’re giving us away properly. I have a good 
mind to put a bullet through their heads.” 

This was too much for Tot; she burst out: “You 
shoot either of them, Dan Morley, and I’ll have your 
life and see you hanged. Do you think I rode from 
Broadhaven Valley to rob Bothered Shawn and Amos 
Gordon. Let them go ! ” 

“ Good Heavens, girl! Will you shut up? You’ll 
have the police here in a minute.” 

For the life of them, neither Amos Gordon nor 
Bothered Shawn could make head nor tail of the situ- 
ation; that they were waylaid and threatened with 
fire-arms was evident. Shawn was in a cold sweat of 
fear at the threat of being shot. Amos Gordon had 
now no such anxiety, but he was puzzling how Tot 
Gardiner, dressed in man’s clothes, and in company 
with a friend of the schoolmaster’s, came to be playing 
at highway robbery. 

“ I think, Mr. Flannigan,” said the old man, “ I’ll 
dismount and talk this thing over with you; maybe 
you took myself and my friend here for bushrangers. 
If that’s so, I assure you we are honest people, and 
friends too of one who, I believe, is your friend also — 
Mr. Bennett, the schoolmaster.” 


THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS 161 


At this Amos slowly dismounted; but as be did so, 
to bis further amazement, bis two assailants made off 
into the Bush. He listened a moment to the retreating 
footsteps, and then cried out at the top of bis voice: 
“ Tot Gardiner, come back, child, and let an old man 
advise you for your good.” 

“ My goodness ! ” said Tot as they hurried in the 
direction of their horses. “ We’ve fallen in properly 
this time. He’s a regular old stick and hasn’t he a 
tongue! Give him half a chance and he’ll force me 
hack home again if it costs him his life. And to think 
that he should bring Bothered Shawn with him too! ” 
The girl laughed hysterically. 

They had just reached the horses, when they heard 
the old man shouting : “ Dan Flannigan, you villain, 
let the girl go, or I’ll set the police on your track. 
What do you think John Bennett would say about 
you ? ” 

u Curse him, the old fool,” muttered Dan, “ I’ll put 
daylight through him yet ; ” and mounting his horse 
in a rage, he rode back toward the old preacher. 
“ Hear him,” he said to Tot; “ he’ll rouse the whole 
country-side.” 

“ Don’t lose your head, Dan,” said Tot, greatly agi- 
tated ; “ let me go and send them off ; ” but while she 
was speaking Dan fired in the direction of the voice, 
and following the shot Amos and Shawn were heard 
cantering in the direction of Sydney. 

Dan and Tot waited under cover for a time, for the 
rising moon was now sending shafts of light through 
the lower branches of the trees, and Dan re-loaded his 
weapon. 

“ You were a gawk to shoot,” said Tot. “ You don’t 


THE OUTLAW 


162 

know who’s about; but it was hard luck to have to 
1 stick up ’ two of one’s old friends in that fashion. 
Whatever will the valley people say when they hear 
about it? I shall tell them that I knew who it was, 
and did it for a joke.” 

“ Do you think you’ll ever get back again ? ” said 
Dan. 

“ Certainly, Mr. Elannigan, if I want to,” retorted 
Tot; “ who’s to stop me? But, tell me, do you think 
it will he safe now for us to ride into Sydney ; or had 
we better make for your estate on the Wollambi ? ” 

“ Oh, stow it ! ” said the bushranger angrily, “ we’ve 
got to get some money to-night to have a spree with in 
Sydney, and remember that you’re in it as much as I 
am ; you needn’t tell me, but you shook 1 that mare yer 
riding.” 

“ All right ! ” said the girl contemptuously. “ But 
think of something else quick, please, or I shall do a bit 
on my own. We might have another flutter and take a 
purse, and get into Sydney by some other road. There 
can’t be any more people from the Broadhaven Valley 
about — unless it is the schoolmaster.” 

“ I’d as soon meet old Nick to-night,” said Dan. 
“ Like as not he would put a bullet into me.” 

“ What for ? ” asked Tot, in astonishment. 

“ Ah, my girl ! if you think you know him you’re 
much mistaken. He can be as soft as velvet among girls 
and kids; but once he’s put out he’s a terror. Hello! 
there’s some one else coming along ; hang up your horse, 
and let’s try the trick again, and then I’ll show you 
another road into Sydney.” He listened for a moment 

1 Stole. 


THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS 163 

and then said : u Two country cornstalks this time, or 
I’m much mistaken ; hear ’em laugh ? ” 

Two horsemen came trotting down into the hollow, 
talking and laughing as they rode along. Tot braced 
herself up and held her stick ready to present as a pistol. 
She was a strong, fearless girl, brought up to do a man’s 
rough work among horses and cattle; but she held her 
breath as the two drew near, and she waited for Dan’s 
rough challenge to spring out upon them. “ They 
might fire back at us this time,” she thought. 

She saw in the moonlight that they were two big 
men, riding good horses, and then her heart stood still. 
It was a voice she recognized — the schoolmaster him- 
self — surely everything was going wrong ! 

The two horsemen, still laughing and talking, and 
unconscious of danger, rode past unchallenged. 

It was fully five minutes before Dan Morley came 
slowly across the moonlit road and again joined her. 
He looked completely bewildered. “ Another fluke ! ” 
he whispered hoarsely. u Did you twig who it was ? 
Curse it ! we’ve no luck to-night” 

“ I knew his voice,” replied Tot, who was shaking all 
over, and beginning to think that bushranging was not, 
after all, a very rosy occupation. In fact, she already 
regretted having left her home. But it couldn’t be 
helped, she thought. Now she was in for it, she would 
see it through. 

“ So the captain is riding into Sydney on Fleetfoot, 
with a clergyman,” said Dan, as though thinking aloud ; 
“ it’s dashed dangerous ! We all thought that he was 
going to the Ranges by the Western-road. That settles 
it for me, Tot ; I daren’t show my nose in Sydney, with 


THE OUTLAW 


164 

him there. We’ll have to ride back, and get across the 
river at Parramatta. Best stop there to-night. If we 
manage properly, no one will suspect us.” 

“ I have some money,” said Tot. “ Let’s get back 
quickly, I’m hungry; we’ll see better what to do to- 
morrow.” 

It was a clear moonlight night, pleasantly cool with- 
out being cold, and the horses stepped out briskly as 
their heads were turned toward Parramatta ; it was as 
though they knew that the journey was drawing to a 
close. 

For half an hour they walked the horses, for Dan 
refused to trot or canter, keenly on the alert, and ready 
to turn into the Bush at any moment, if suspicious cir- 
cumstances made such a course seem advisable. They 
had a plausible story ready to account for their presence 
on the road ; but Dan was specially anxious not to come 
into contact with the police. Tot might be able to 
satisfy them, but he was not so sure about his own 
ability to do so. 

Presently, through the still night, there came a dis- 
tant sound behind them, which made Dan pull up his 
horse and listen, for his well-trained ear recognised the 
peculiar tread of several shod horses being ridden upon 
the road behind them. They were coming along with 
clanking sabres and equipment, at a hard, steady trot. 

Tot heard the sinister sound also. “ Do you think 
old Gordon has put the police on us, Dan ? ” she said. 

“ They’re not police, they’re soldiers, and the sooner 
we get out of their way, the better. That old fool of 
a preacher, no doubt, has given ’em the office ; and even 
if, by good luck, we slip them, they’re bound to rouse 
the police in Parramatta. You bet ! the police and 


THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS 165 

soldiers know more about our doings on the south coast 
than old Gordon did. We’ll take the left-hand bush, 
so as to keep clear of the river; the banks are high 
about here ; keep close up to me.” 

Turning into the thick undergrowth, he was followed 
by Tot, until they reached a clump of tea-trees, where 
Dan dismounted. “ Get off,” he said, “ and keep quite 
still. Put your hand on the mare’s nose. They’ll soon 
be passing.” 

They were six of the new mounted infantry, with an 
officer in charge. They rode up at a swinging trot 
with a great noise of jingling spurs and accoutrements. 
When abreast of Dan’s hiding-place the officer cried, 
“ Halt! ” They immediately stopped, and, judging by 
the long silence, they were listening. 

“ Strange ! ” said the officer in a low tone. u Cor- 
poral, you said you could hear them a few minutes 
ago ? ” 

“ Certainly I did, sir, they must have turned into 
the Bush somewhere, and be hiding, no doubt, not far 
from us.” 

“ Might have us covered with their pistols, eh ! ” 
said the officer, shrugging his shoulders. “ By the way, 
didn’t Major Browne send word that the girl was riding 
a blood-mare she had stolen ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Keep perfectly still, men,” was the next whispered 
command. 

Five minutes passed. They seemed like an hour ; the 
officer was evidently waiting to hear something. 

Suddenly, within what seemed only a couple of 
hundred feet from the waiting horsemen, the silence 
was abruptly broken by the loud whinny of Tot Gar- 


1 66 THE OUTLAW 

diner’s mare. It was what the officer had been waiting 
for. 

“ We have them., men,” said the officer ; “ they’re 
in a trap! Corporal, take two men,” he continued, 
“ ride back a hundred yards, strike into the Bush, and 
keep your eyes and ears open. Mind the creek, it has 
steep banks here, and runs at about three hundred yards 
parallel with the road. 

“ Come along, men,” he said to the other two ; “ we’ll 
head them off this side. 

“ Corporal ! ” he shouted, as he put spurs to his horse, 
“ take them dead or alive. The man’s one of Salathiel’s 
gang. There’s a hundred pounds reward on his head.” 

Dan either had not known, or had forgotten, that 
just ahead of them, a branch of the Parramatta Biver 
crossed the road, and swept around to the north-east, 
between precipitous banks; nor had he heard the offi- 
cer’s directions to his men. 

Followed by Tot, he dug in his spurs and rode 
straight in the direction of the creek. Coming into 
the full moonlight, he managed to pull up only just 
in time. It was thirty perpendicular feet to the rocky 
bottom, and to go over that would be certain death. He 
saw, at once, that they were trapped; the soldiers had 
them on both sides, and in front was the chasm. 

“ Surrender, or we fire ! ” called out the officer. 

The bushranger gave the situation a moment’s 
thought; there was only a bare chance of escape for 
himself; he must ride past the corporal and his men. 
Alas ! Dan Morley had nothing chivalrous about him ; 
he gave no thought for Tot Gardiner ! Firing off both 
pistols at the corporal and his men, he spurred his horse, 
and rode straight for them. 


THE WAY OF TRANSGRESSORS 167 

A volley was the answer; but it was unsteady, for 
the men were afraid of shooting each other; and, amid 
the smoke and confusion, Dan was heard breaking 
through them at a gallop. A cry of pain and terror 
came from Tot, whom, in the bright moonlight, the 
soldiers saw reeling unsteadily in the saddle, for the 
mare, also shot, was struggling to stand upon the very 
verge of the cliff ; then, with a scream of fear from the 
mare, they disappeared together into the darkness. 

Alas! it was a sad tale that Amos Gordon would 
hear upon the morrow; for it was he who had met 
and warned the soldiers. Dan, badly wounded, had es- 
caped, but was being tracked by troopers ; and Tot Gar- 
diner was dead. Two bullets had struck her, and 
another bullet the mare, which had fallen upon her in 
the bed of the creek, crushing her upon the hard rock. 


Things had been bad enough for Salathiel before, but 
they were ten times worse now that Tot Gardiner was 
dead : and such a death ! When Monday morn- 
ing’s newspapers came out, the whole Colony would 
shudder at the tragedy, and denounce Salathiel and his 
gang as the cause of it. And Betsy Carey would read 
a passage in his letter to her — read it again with scald- 
ing tears : u I am a miserable man at heart, Betsy ; 
the good that I would, I do not, and the evil I would 
not, that I do.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE, V AT LEY OF SHADOWS 

N ATURE recks naught of human guilt or suffering, 
and on Sunday morning the sun shone as brightly 
as ever upon the flashing waters of Sydney’s magnifi- 
cent harbour, and upon the trees and flowers and sward 
of the public gardens which had recently been estab- 
lished between Macquarie-street and Lady Macquarie’s 
Chair. 

Sydney was conservative in the matter of Sunday 
observance, more so than now ; and Salathiel was 
struck by the quietness of the city streets, which, on 
the previous night, he had seen in a turmoil of business 
and pleasure, under the glare of the gaslights. 

He had promised the Rev. Mr. McEwan, who had 
impressed him very favourably, to attend his church 
for morning service, and having put up at an hotel, he 
dressed himself with unusual care, in a new suit of 
clothes. He hoped to see the faces of his mother and 
sister; he might not be able to speak to them, hut it 
would be something to know for himself that they were 
well. 

It was a daring thing to do, for the church was in 
Philip-street, and the police headquarters and court- 
house were close by, at the top of King-street; but 
dressed in broadcloth, with top hat and gloves, Jack 
passed two inspectors of police and several constables, 
168 


THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 169 

one of whom, an emancipated convict, saluted, under 
the impression that it was some city magnate, who 
might resent any want of respect. 

J ack was purposely late, hoping to get in unobserved, 
and take a seat in some sheltered corner of the building ; 
but, as he mounted the steps, whom should he see pass- 
ing through the large vestibule but Amos Gordon ? At 
the sight Jack’s evil genius warned him to draw back; 
but there was little thought of either good angels or bad, 
God or Devil, in Salathiel’s mind that Sunday morning, 
although he was attending church, and the only pre- 
caution he took was to enter by another door. 

He found the better dressed portion of the large 
congregation occupying the middle seats; they were 
standing to sing the first psalm as he entered, and a 
fussy verger led the gentlemanly, well-dressed man, 
notwithstanding his dissent, toward the front, and 
showed him into a carpeted, cushioned pew with short 
blue curtains. There were other well-dressed occupants 
of the pew, which was far too conspicuous for Salathiel’s 
liking. He was the more annoyed and perturbed when 
Amos Gordon’s beaming face confronted him. He felt 
sure that the old man had seen and recognised him. 
However, he looked carefully around, over his hymn- 
book, for it was a very long psalm; but he could see 
nothing of his mother and sister. 

Settling himself down in the corner of the pew, he 
presently began to take more interest in the service. 
He was more accustomed to the Jewish form of wor- 
ship; but he had been in that church before, with his 
mother, as a boy. It was a novel and not unpleasant 
sensation, after his rough life as convict and bushranger, 
to sit there, a well-dressed man, among well-dressed 


THE OUTLAW 


170 

people. The choir was led by a precentor without any 
musical accompaniment, but it was well trained, and 
the singing of the congregation was hearty and impres- 
sive. Especially was Salathiel struck by the words and 
music of “ Nearer My God to Thee! ” 

His attention was presently arrested by the Old 
Testament reading, which was about David when an 
outcast, being hunted by King Saul in the wilderness 
of Zith; how David abode in strongholds and remained 
in a mountain, and how Saul “ sought him daily, but 
God delivered him not into his hands.” It was easy 
for J ack to imagine his case similar to that of the war- 
rior King of Israel. “ He was driven out like myself, 
by injustice and violence,” he thought, “ and he robbed 
the rich for the sustenance of his men, who were poor. 
He was a fighter and an outlaw, and yet, afterward, 
came to a kingdom and a throne ! ” 

Of course there were many points of difference be- 
tween the two; but, at the time, Jack failed to see them. 

When the text was announced, Jack became still 
more deeply interested. It was taken from the Psalms 
of David and referred to his perilous experiences before 
he became king. The words were : “ Hide me under 

the shadow of Thy wings, from the wicked that oppress 
me, from my deadly enemies, who compass me about.” 

It was a singular coincidence, that such a text should 
have been chosen as the subject of discourse, on an 
occasion when a notorious outlaw, for the first and only 
time, sat in the congregation. 

The sermon was a striking one, even to the casual 
hearer, and deeply pathetic; but to Salathiel it came 
like a message from another world. The preacher 
spoke of God as the hiding-place of His people. 


THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 171 

He pictured a young man, with mother and sisters de- 
pendent upon him, beset by creditors and tempted to 
steal. “ How crisp the bank notes are ! ” exclaimed the 
preacher. “ How the gold glitters ! See ! he reaches 
out his hand to take it ; a moment, and he will be a dis- 
honoured man, with a seared conscience, and blasted 
life; but God pities him, and flashes through his mind 
thoughts of his white-haired mother and his childhood’s 
homeland the young man bows his head in agony of 
soul, and cries to God to pity him, to help him ; and the 
Almighty stretches the wings of His compassion over 
him, and hides him, until the temptation is past ! 99 

It was a singularly vivid picture, and the whole 
congregation was evidently moved, but Jack controlled 
himself, for the earnest face of the preacher seemed to 
be turned frequently in his direction. 

The preacher brought his sermon to a close : “ In 

all times of sorrow,” he said, “ we need a hiding-place, 
but especially in sorrow which is silent and secret. 
Brethren, one-half the world’s sorrow is hidden, and it 
is the worst half ; it’s that which has most sin connected 
with it! We daily meet with people whom we think 
we know all about; but we don’t. We read faces, but 
God reads hearts, and He only knows the extent of 
the sorrow caused by sin; sorrow which is sometimes 
even unto death when there is no Father God, and 
no hiding-place to flee to. David speaks of passing 
through the Valley of Death, and he is generally sup- 
posed to refer to dying; but he doesn’t mean that at 
all. Death is not so bad ! But there’s a hopeless sor- 
row which it would be easier far to die than bear ! 
That’s the Valley of Shadows! When the grey-haired 
old King bowed his head over the corpse of his rebellious 


THE OUTLAW 


172 

eon, and sobbed out : 4 O Absalom ! would to God that 

I had died for thee ! O Absalom, my son, my son ! ’ 
that was the valley of the Shadow of Death. God save 
us from it! Brethren, there are times in life, for all 
of us, when we want a Divine Bather; times when, 
sweet as earthly sympathy is, it won’t satisfy; when to 
speak of philosophy, or anything but religion, would 
only add insult to our woes ; when a man involuntarily 
prays : c God, help me ! God, pity me ! ’ and there, 
bowed at the feet of the Divine Father, the troubled 
spirit finds a hiding-place and peace.” 

A pause followed, and the preacher was about to 
close his discourse, when a cry of agony rang through 
the building. The preacher’s eloquence had aroused 
feelings which were evidently more than some poor soul 
could bear. 

“ It’s Mrs. Salathiel,” whispered an elder of the 
church to his wife ; “ her daughter Buth is with her. 
Poor woman! she’s thinking of Jack.” 

Salathiel dared not rise and look around ; but it was 
only by a great effort that he restrained himself from 
doing so. He was in a corner of the pew, and bowing 
his face in his hands, his whole sad life seemed to pass 
before his inner consciousness in a moment of time, 
and only by a supreme effort did he keep himself from 
groaning aloud. In that strange vision he saw himself 
a hunted man, without home, refuge, hiding-place, or 
God. 

The service was quickly closed, and as, hat in hand, 
he looked fearfully round, hoping to catch a glimpse 
of Kuth and his mother, a hand was placed, from be- 
hind, upon his shoulder. He started, for it might have 


THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 173 

been a policeman, but turning sharply round, he saw it 
was the hand of Amos Gordon. 

The old man seemed a little confused. “I’m glad 
to see you, Mr. Bennett,” he said. “ It has been a 
wonderful service; very fine discourse. Can I have 
a word with you outside ? ” 

“ Certainly,” said J ack, but he said it with a heavy 
heart. 

They went together down the crowded aisle, and 
turned up Philip-street towards the Gardens. Sala- 
thiel looked eagerly out for his mother’s carriage, for 
several were still at the church door; but it was not 
there. Now, for the first time, a fearful sense of im- 
pending disaster took hold of him. Amos Gordon 
seemed to have something on his mind, and was walking 
very quietly by his side. They turned together, with- 
out a word, up to the Macquarie-street entrance of the 
Gardens. 

“ We will find a quiet seat, where we can sit and 
talk,” said Salathiel. 

They went on until they reached a vacant seat, where 
at their feet lay the glorious harbour view. 

“ Now, old friend,” said Salathiel, “ you have some- 
thing to tell me ? ” 

“ Mr. Bennett,” said the old man in a broken voice, 
“ is it really true that you are Jack Salathiel, the bush- 
ranger ? ” 

“ Unfortunately, it is true,” replied Jack. 

“ Poor fellow ! ” said Amos, looking at him with 
tears in his eyes. “ Do you know,” he continued, with 
a break in his voice, u that Dan Morley brought Tot 
Gardiner away with him from the Valley to Sydney, 


THE OUTLAW 


174 

and that he is badly wounded, and the police are after 
him, and that poor Tot Gardiner is dead — shot 
through the brain ? ” 

It was a full half-minute before Jack found his 
voice; it was as though a great black blotch had sud- 
denly fallen from the avenging Heavens upon his pleas- 
ant memory of the school, and Betsy, and the Broad- 
haven V alley. It blotted out all the sunshine ; the very 
landscape around him was suddenly changed — and he 
had been so careful that his life should be kept white 
and clean down there! 

“ Dan Morley with Tot Gardiner in Sydney ! ” he 
stammered out. “ And Tot dead ! ” He spoke like 
a man absolutely dazed. “ I know nothing whatever 
about it ; tell me all you know.” 

Amos Gordon told him the whole sad, mad, dis- 
graceful story, and, as Jack listened, he recalled the 
preacher’s pathetic sermon, and there came down upon 
his heart a weight like lead. 

“ If the police don’t take him, Dan Morley shall an- 
swer to me for this,” was all he said. 

There was a long pause. Jack was looking down on 
the path, poking at the gravel with his walking stick. 

“ Do the police or soldiers know that I am in Syd- 
ney ? ” he asked at last. 

“ I think not,” said Amos. 

“Amos Gordon,” said Jack, turning round and 
looking him full in the face, “ you know how I have 
tried to do right down in the Broadhaven Valley. I 
allowed nothing to be stolen and no one to be hurt. 
You know that I intended to go away as I came, John 
Bennett the school-teacher; tell me honestly, old man, 


THE VALLEY OF SHADOWS 175 

do you believe that all the preacher said about God this 
morning is true ? ” 

“ I do,” said Gordon. 

“ Then tell me,” said Salathiel, “ where does a bush- 
ranger and an outlaw, such as I am, come in ? ” 

“ Where the thief upon the cross did,” replied Amos. 

There was another pause. 

“ Good-bye, old man,” said Jack. “ You won’t 
i come it on ’ me, I know, and I’m not going to give 
myself up to these devils yet, to be tried, and tortured, 
and hanged. Both God and man seem to be against 
me. I must thank that preacher some time for his 
Scripture reading and sermon; it will surprise him to 
get a letter from a bushranger ; but now I must get out 
of Sydney quickly. Depend upon it, old friend, the 
Colony will hear more yet of Jack Salathiel the bush- 
ranger.” 

Jack reached out his hand, and Amos Gordon clasped 
it in both of his and commenced to plead with him; 
but Jack drew away, and leaping suddenly over the 
low grassy bank in front of them, disappeared. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


BETSY BECOMES SCHOOLMISTRESS 

A LL through the sad days which followed the death 
of Tot Gardiner, Betsy remained staunchly true 
to her old school-teacher. She began to know Salathiel 
better, for she had not failed to write to him as he 
wished, and in two letters in reply, he had told her 
something about himself and his affairs. But there 
was no word of love in his letters, although Betsy be- 
lieved that she could trace more than a brotherly af- 
fection for her; he had given her his confidence, and 
entrusted to her some secret commissions, which was 
proof enough for her, at present, of his love. He had 
even told her that there had been another woman in 
his life, a woman of beauty and education, but as false 
as she was fair. Evidently he had come to regard 
Betsy as one of his few sympathetic and knowledgeable 
friends. How sacredly she kept her trust may be sur- 
mised; for even to her mother the contents of Sa- 
lathiel’s letters were never disclosed. 

To the people of the valley she presented an inflex- 
ible front on behalf of Salathiel. She ignored every- 
thing that had to do with bushranging or outlawry. 
She spoke of Mr. Bennett to the people with the utmost 
respect and kindness, and let it be known that he had 
recently inherited property in his own right. She said 
176 


BETSY BECOMES SCHOOLMISTRESS 177 

that he had been basely wronged and ill-treated by bad 
men; and she so cleverly defended his reputation, that 
there was quite a reversal of opinion on the part of 
many in his favour. What proof was there, she asked, 
of his having done wrong to any one in the valley ? 
All they knew of his character was in his favour. To 
the children especially she spoke of him in grateful and 
kindly terms. “ Think of all he taught us, and how 
kind and considerate he was ! ” she would say ; and 
she would even hint to them, that it was not impossible 
but that he might return. 

Ned Driver and others found her quite a match for 
them. “ You’re blaming Mr. Bennett for what Dan 
Morley and other bad men did,” she exclaimed hotly; 
“you know that he knew nothing about Tot Gardiner 
leaving home, and was not responsible, in any way, for 
her death. Tot came to her end through her own folly, 
in stealing O’Brien’s mare, and running away from 
home, dressed in her dead father’s clothes.” If Dan 
had escaped the police they might be sure that he had 
not escaped the anger of Mr. Bennett. 

“ Hang Mr. Btennett ! ” exclaimed Ned Driver, 
“ why don’t you call him by his right name ? ” 

“ It’s the name I always knew him by,” retorted 
Betsy ; “ it was the name he had down here. By the 
way, Ned, honest now, were you always known as the 
virtuous Edward Driver ? ” 

Ned Driver jumped on his horse at this and rode 
off without another word. He had run up against a 
snag, as the people said down in the valley, for there 
w T as an unpleasant episode in his life, when he had been 
known by another name. “ The cat ! ” he muttered, 
“ to taunt me about that old thing, and call me the 


THE OUTLAW 


178 

‘ virtuous Edward Driver/ I wonder how much she 
really knows about it ! ” 

The weeks passed by, and Salathiel’s gang, who were 
believed to be hidden in their old haunts in the Liver- 
pool Banges, had been strangely quiet. Bobberies 
were of frequent occurrence, for there were many ex- 
convicts out in the Bush; but there was nothing which 
could be directly traced to Salathiel or his gang. Betsy 
was, of course, jubilant at this, for every one had been 
predicting some early act of violence ; but, unfor- 
tunately, Betsy’s satisfaction was not to last very long. 

The thing which most impressed the people of the 
valley at this time was the noticeable change in Betsy. 
She was fast growing into a gracious and beautiful 
woman, and seemed to have suddenly developed a 
seriousness of character and grace of deportment more 
fitted to one of riper years and higher station in life. 
Being school-monitor, she met the Committee at her 
own suggestion, and as there seemed but little likeli- 
hood that they would be able to get another teacher, 
she offered, through her father, that, if they would 
re-open the school, she would take temporary charge 
of it. Mr. Bennett, she said, had left her all the school 
books, and it was a pity, after the excellent start the 
children had made, that they should go back again dur- 
ing the teacher’s absence. To the astonishment of the 
Committee, she declared that she had reason to believe 
that Mr. Bennett might come back later on, and their 
surprise at the attitude she assumed in regard to the 
late schoolmaster was so great that they did not contra- 
dict her. Few of them indeed, were a match for 
Betsy’s wits and tongue ; for she fought Salathiel’s bat- 
tles as does a lioness who defends her young. Poddy 


BETSY BECOMES SCHOOLMISTRESS 179 

Carey, however, predicted that a chap like Salathiel 
was certain to be hanged. 

But it was Betsy’s management of the school which 
astonished both the children and their parents, for be- 
fore this, none of them had taken Betsy seriously. 
It was as though the spirit of their old teacher had 
taken possession of the new schoolmistress, only in a 
more energetic and pugnacious form. The school had 
not been re-opened a fortnight under Betsy’s manage- 
ment ere some of the elder scholars gave indications of 
insubordination and an intended general revolt. But 
Betsy took matters in hand after a fashion which ab- 
solutely appalled them. She was going to stand no non- 
sense! The very next morning the secretary and two 
stalwart committee-men unexpectedly attended school. 
The two ringleaders were expelled, another was severely 
thrashed, and two others left of their own accord out 
of sheer fright; the outcome of it was, that the whole 
school meekly accepted the new despotic reign of law 
and order. It was at this time that Betsy’s well-known 
fearlessness with horses and cattle stood her in good 
stead with the motley crowd of youngsters she had 
undertaken to teach. They feared and respected her 
for her very daring. On some mornings, especially if 
late, she would come riding down at full gallop on 
Loiterer, stock-whip in hand, and would jump the top 
rail of the school-house fence as though it were the most 
ordinary way of entrance. There was special quietness 
and attention in the classes then. The big boys would 
say : “ Look out ! Betsy has got her bristles up ; she 

came in over the top rail of the fence.” 

She worked assiduously at her books, moreover, so 
as to be able to teach, made friends with Mercy Lord 


THE OUTLAW 


i So 

and appointed lier monitor, and had the success of the 
school so evidently at heart, that Mrs. Carey, proud of 
her success, declared that there were plenty to do the 
work of the house without her. But Betsy had become 
grave and thoughtful, and she shirked no helpful duty 
in the household. It was now that her mother began 
to fear that she loved Salathiel not wisely but too well. 

Of course Jack had his enemies in the district — 
what strong man is there who has not \ — and as a bush- 
ranger he had laid himself, justly, open to enmity; but 
the surprising thing was that some of those who had 
received only kindness and assistance at his hands hated 
him the most. Major Browne had nothing good to 
say about him, and Silas Stump was his sworn and 
hitter foe. The latter, however, knew better than to 
display his enmity before Betsy. He had nothing to 
complain of about her, either as to her teaching or her 
use of the canes and green hide calf-skin. “ I wouldn’t 
have thought it was in her,” he said one day ; “ the 
children mostly like her, and are learning well, but if 
any of them play tricks, she is down on them surpris- 
ingly; oh, there is no nonsense about the way she 
teaches school.” 

What a wonderful, subtle and creative thing is love ! 
How it subjugates, inspires, and controls ! What won- 
drous changes have been wrought, and what deeds 
achieved under its inspiration, even when it has been 
almost wholly a hopeless passion, as was Dante’s love 
for Beatrice! It would not be quite correct so to de- 
scribe Betsy’s for Salathiel ; but, as events were moving, 
it seemed very unlikely that her love for the bushranger 
would ever be more to her than an inspiring and 
beautiful ideal. Salathiel’s life seemed to be on the 


BETSY BECOMES SCHOOLMISTRESS 181 

down-grade since his visit to Sydney, and might at 
any moment be brought to a sudden end; or it might 
become so stained with crime and violence as to mar 
or destroy its fair image in Betsy’s mind. It was 
John Bennett the school-teacher whom Betsy had 
learned to love — not Jack Salathiel the bushranger. 

“ There’s a fine story in the newspapers about your 
old schoolmaster, Betsy,” said Silas to her one day. 

“ More fairy tales, I suppose ! ” replied Betsy. 

Her heart beat fast, however, for she knew more 
about Salathiel than most, and the more she knew the 
greater were her fears. She would concede nothing, 
however, to Silas Stump, whom she had come to re- 
gard as a natural enemy. 

“ Here, read it for yourself,” said Silas, handing her 
a Sydney paper. The article was headed: 

ROBBERY UNDER ARMS 
Salathiel and his Gang at Baker’s Creek 

There was, however, “a fly in Salathiel’s pot of 
golden ointment ” which the journals, at the time, 
knew nothing about. 


CHAPTEK XXIV 

A GILDED PILL FOB SALATHIEL 

I NSTEAD of printing what Bfetsy read in the Syd- 
ney newspapers, which was only partially correct, 
it is proposed to transcribe Joe Crocker’s account of 
this adventure, mostly in his own words, for it was 
he who saw the whole affair, and gave the story to the 
press. 

It should he explained that, although the discovery 
of gold was not made public by Hargreaves until Feb- 
ruary 1851, there had been quite a number of previous 
finds of the precious metal in 1849 and ’50, which, 
through fear of the Government, which had prohibited 
digging for gold, had been worked secretly. Such a 
discovery had been made at a place called' Baker’s Creek, 
some eighty miles north-west of Maitland. 

Joe Crocker, who was at this time a young fellow of 
two and twenty, worked on a copper-mine 1 much 
farther north, and with a bulk sample of copper ore on 
a pack-horse for assay, was on his way to Maitland. 
He had ridden forty miles that day, which left him 
another couple of miles to ride, before reaching Baker’s 
Creek, so, meeting with a party camped on the roadside, 
he thought that he might as well stay there for the night, 
as there was plenty of grass and water handy for his 
horses. He proposed to ride into Baker’s Creek next 
morning, in time for breakfast. 

1 Copper was discovered in New South Wales in 1829. 

182 


A GILDED PILL FOR SALATHIEL 183 

J oe pulled up his horses close to a fire, where a man 
was cooking damper, and said : u Good evening, 
mate.” 

“ Good evening,” replied the man, looking hard at 
him ; “ are you going on to the creek ? ” 

As Joe answered in the affirmative, three more men 
came out of a tent, which was pitched close by, in the 
shelter of some bushes. “ You'll have to push on to 
get there before dark,” said the man who had first 
spoken. 

“ Are you a miner ? ” asked another, who had been 
speaking to the first man in an undertone. 

“ I guess so,” replied J oe, as he dismounted with 
youthful assurance. “ I'm taking a bulk sample of 
lode stuff down to Maitland,” he continued. 

“ Gold ? ” queried one of them. 

“ Ho, I wish it was. The boss wouldn't have trusted 
me with gold; it's copper-ore of some kind, but we're 
going to see.” 

There was some more whispering, when one of the 
men said to Joe: “ We're a party of prospectors. 
You can camp with us to-night if you like, mate; it's 
a rough bit of road between here and the creek.” 

Joe thanked them, and at once agreed to do so. He 
put them down as a party of new chums who, so far 
as mining went, probably wouldn't know the difference 
between a miner's cradle and a dolly-pot. He thought 
them a good-hearted, harmless crowd, and told them 
that his name was Joe. 

Two of them said they were only just out from Corn- 
wall, and one asserted that he had already made a bit of 
a pile on the quiet. They had plenty of tucker, and 
would not let Joe unpack his. After tea they brought 


THE OUTLAW 


184 

out a bottle of grog, and settled down to have a game of 
euchre, in which Joe joined them, “ Pity,” said one 
they called Dandy Snow, “ there wasn’t another to 
make it six ! ” 

Just then a coo-ee was heard in the bush. One of 
them answered, and directly afterwards who should 
come riding along, on a fine upstanding horse, but a 
parson ? 

“ Thank goodness, my men,” said he, riding cau- 
tiously into the camp ; “ I was afraid I was bushed. 
I’m dead tired and hungry. I have some blankets. 
I suppose you are miners; you won’t mind my camp- 
ing here to-night ? ” 

“ Of course not, your reverence,” said a man they 
called He d Fenton. “Put the billy on, Dandy, while 
I help the minister to unsaddle his horse and make up 
a shake down for him in the tent.” 

“ Hang it all ! ” said Dandy to Joe, as he put the 
cards out of sight and hung on the billy. “ I’d sooner 
it had been Old Hick than a parson; he’ll want to 
have prayers to-night, you bet ! and we might have 
had a six-handed game of euchre. But Fenton is a 
real religious sort of card, and he’s boss just now.” 

Joe was astonished at the attention they paid the 
clergyman. He was fatigued, he said, with his ride, 
so Fenton made him a stiff nobbier of hot whisky and 
water before he had his supper, and the men sat around, 
as the clergyman afterward remarked, as good as boys 
at Sunday school, except that they smoked their pipes 
and drank grog. 

The clergyman had a good tuck-in, and told them 
he had been away from his parsonage for nearly a 
month, and had held twenty services and married five 


A GILDED PILL FOR SALATHIEL 185 

couples, baptised fourteen children, and given the tem- 
perance pledge to several hard drinkers. He told 
them he was very much afraid of bushrangers, and 
hinted that the presents and collections he had received 
were very liberal. “ It's my annual tour,” he re- 
marked, “ of which I make a special feature at shearing 
time.” 

The men laughed, and told him that he would be 
all right, as Australian bushrangers had a great re- 
spect for the clergy. 

Later on, Joe got a bit of a staggerer, for, taking 
out a gold watch, the clergyman said : “ How, breth- 

ren, it’s an hour yet to bedtime, and I think you were 
playing euchre. I’m not a bit strait-laced, and you 
all look temperate men. So suppose we have a six- 
handed game, and then a glass of whisky from my 
travelling flask before we turn into bed ? ” 

“ By all means, your reverence,” said Fenton. “ I 
see you’re one of the right sort ; I wish there were more 
clergymen like you.” 

The parson had the men’s tent to himself that night, 
at least Dandy told Joe he had, and Joe slept under 
a white gum sapling, with his blanket around him and 
his head in his saddle. 

Hext morning Joe rode into Baker’s Creek, in com- 
pany with the Rev. Ignatius Small, M.A., of All Saint’s, 
Maitland, who had left his thanks and blessing with 
the hospitable miners. “ They’re good fellows,” he 
said, as he rode along, “ and that man Fenton has evi- 
dently been brought up with proper respect for the 
cloth. I hope they will have real good luck.” 

The find at Baker’s Creek was being kept as quiet 
as possible ; but several parties were sluicing and pan- 


1 86 THE OUTLAW 

rung out a considerable amount of coarse alluvial 
gold. 

There was a store, mostly built of packing cases, at 
Baker’s Creek, with a canvas sign in front, on which 
was painted “ Browne and Co.” It was a branch of an 
important Maitland firm, which sold everything that 
miners or travellers could hope to buy in such a place. 
Here the precious metal was bought for hard cash or 
exchanged for soft and hard goods, tobacco, and a trifle 
of grog, on occasion. 

The clergyman put up at the hotel, such as it was, 
while Joe sought accommodation at a boarding-house 
with calico walls and iron roof on a framework of green 
saplings. He had a letter of introduction to Browne 
and Co., of Maitland, and had been told to show it on 
his way to the manager at Baker’s Creek. The pro- 
prietors of the copper-mine had been good customers, 
and Joe guessed that he was sure to have a cordial re- 
ception ; but, to his delight, he found that Hed Chipman, 
a nephew of a member of the firm and an old school- 
mate, was in charge during the absence of the manager. 
He was older than Joe, and had grown into a clever, 
capable man with strong character and a thorough ap- 
titude for business. 

He would not hear of Joe going on that afternoon. 
“ Besides, old man,” said he, “ it is a stroke of luck for 
me your turning up just now. You don’t know who 
to trust here. I’ve to start for Maitland myself to- 
morrow, and for several reasons I would like to have 
you with me. We can both sleep on the counter to- 
night; bring your swag across from the boarding-house 
and have your meals here until we start.” 

“Why do you sleep on the counter?” asked Joe; 


A GILDED PILL FOR SALATHIEL 187 

but just then several customers came in, and Ned, say- 
ing, “ Ell tell you all about it at lunch-time,” left him 
to go and get his swag. 

As he was walking along the one street of the town- 
ship, a short, stout man came up to him and said: 
“ Stranger, there’s going to be a service at the Roll-up- 
tree to-night ; there’ll be flutes and fiddles, and a real 
live parson to conduct it. You’ll attend, of course ? ” 

“ Certainly, if business does not prevent me,” said 
Joe. 

The man was a Cornish Methodist, and he hurried 
along saying: “ Tell all you meet to come, brother; 
it’s an opportunity for good in a lost place like this.” 
Joe guessed that the clergyman referred to must be 
his friend, the Rev. Ignatius Small. 

They locked the store up during the dinner-hour, 
and as they ate Joe thought that Ned seemed unusually 
nervous and thoughtful. 

“ What’s the matter with you ? ” said Joe, “ you look 
as solemn as a grave-digger.” Ned looked cautiously 
around the little room, which had an iron safe in one 
corner, with a double-barrelled pistol lying on the top 
of it, and said in a whisper : “ I’ll tell you after din- 

ner, Joe.” Then he spoke in a louder tone: “ You 
didn’t know I was going to be married next week ? ” 

“ No,” exclaimed Joe; “ who’s the lady?” 

“ She’ll be here presently with her aunt. They’re 
riding in from Dunbar Station. That’s why we’re go- 
ing to sleep on the counter,” he added. 

“ Why ! that’s where Mr. Small was the night be- 
fore last,” said Joe ; and then he told Ned of his meet- 
ing with the clergyman at the diggers’ camp. 

Ned grew thoughtful, and asked Joe a good many 


i88 


THE OUTLAW 


questions about things at the camp. “ There are no 
miners out that way,” he said, “ that I know of, and I 
never heard of the Kev. Ignatius Small at Maitland; 
he may be a new curate or something ; but we must keep 
our eyes open, for there’s no knowing what these bush- 
rangers may be up to. Did you see any fire-arms about 
the camp ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Joe, “ they had a regular stack of guns ; 
but, if they were bushrangers, the parson could not 
have been one of them.” ' 

“ Don’t be too sure about that, old man,” was Ned’s 
reply. “ I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if the parson 
isn’t Jack Salathiel in disguise. I’ve never seen him 
yet; but they say he’s the cleverest actor off the stage. 
He’s been personating a schoolmaster down south, and 
they say that when he makes up his own mother 
wouldn’t know him.” 

After the table was cleared Ned offered Joe a cigar, 
an uncommon luxury in those days, and said as he lit 
one for himself : “ We’ve twenty minutes before I need 

unlock the store again. Now I’ll tell you why I’m 
suspicious of every stranger. This time yesterday 
there was over five thousand pounds in gold and cash, 
in that safe; but it’s on its way to Maitland now. 
Of course it’s well known here that I have a good 
bit of gold and money to go down. You cannot keep 
things of that sort secret, because it’s over a month since 
we sent down the last, and we are buying gold and tak- 
ing cash over the counter every day. 

“ My people are sending up an escort of four 
mounted troopers and a sergeant this afternoon, but 
the road between here and Maitland is infested with 
bushrangers. We did them last time; but it’s com- 


A GILDED PILL FOR SALATHIEL 189 

mon talk that Salathiel’s gang have made up their 
minds to have this lot, troopers or no troopers, and 
I hear that Salathiel has said that he’ll do it with- 
out bloodshed. I believe there are some heavy bets 
laid as to whether we’ll get the stuff through. Two 
coaches with strong escorts have been ‘ stuck up ’ 
during the past six weeks. So far we have escaped, 
for Salathiel has had a kind of regard for a member 
of our firm ; but there’s something gone wrong between 
him and our people, and he means to best us this time. 
He shan’t, however, if I can help it. . . . Joe ! ” 
he exclaimed, under his breath, “ my people would 
stop my marriage, if I lost this gold, and I believe it 
would be the death of me.” 

“ Where is it now l ” asked Joe in a whisper. 

Ned looked around, nervously, and lowered his voice, 
until only just audible, and said : u Tom Nugent, 
our bullocky, has it on his wool-team. The gold and 
cash are in the middle of a big bale of wool, from 
Glenelg Station.” 

u Didn’t you tell me that the wool left this morning 
for Maitland ? ” said Joe. 

“ Yes, it should be at least ten miles on the road,” 
replied Ned. 

“ Jerusalem ! and doesn’t your man know he’s got 
it ? ” exclaimed J oe excitedly. 

“ Hush ! ” said Ned. “ Walls have ears in this place. 
The old chap is as honest as the day; but he knows 
nothing at all about it.” 

“ Well, what’s the trouble ? ” said Joe. 

“ Why, just this. I’m going down with Lucy in 
the gig. We shall have the troopers with us, and the 
supposition is that we shall have the gold in the gig. 


THE OUTLAW 


190 

My people place more reliance on the police than I do. 
We’re sure to be bailed up, and, you’ll see, the troopers 
will throw up their hands, or clear out as soon as the 
first shot’s fired. They’ve done it before. And then, 
when the bushrangers find out that we haven’t the gold 
in the gig, they’ll suspect the wool-team. They’ll know 
that the gold is somewhere near at hand, and Salathiel 
is the smartest rogue unhanged. I ought to have 
sent the bullock team on earlier; but we must trust to 
luck. If I had only something to put into the gold- 
boxes that would deceive them for a few hours, we 
might get through.” 

“ By gum, Ned! I have it,” exclaimed Joe ex- 
citedly, “ I’ve nearly a hundredweight of stuff with me, 
that they will never know to he anything else but gold.” 

“ What ? ” queried Ned. 

Joe put his hands in his pocket, and brought out 
a little parcel wrapped in paper, and showed it to his 
friend. 

The golden yellow metallic appearance of the copper 
pyrites, shone, in a ray of sunlight, just like gold. 

“ What is it ? ” exclaimed Ned excitedly. “ Gold ? ” 

“ No,” said Joe; “it’s copper; but there are not 
many about here would know the difference; it’s the 
new ore, called copper pyrites, which we have dis- 
covered up north.” 

That afternoon Miss Lewis and Mrs. Connell, her 
aunt, who did not look much older, rode in from the 
station. Ned was himself again, and as busy as he 
could be with matters pertaining to the store and his 
arrangements for departure. 

Later on the troopers arrived, with a great clatter 
of accoutrements. They were a fine, well-set-up lot 


A GILDED PILL FOR SALATHIEL 191 

of men, well mounted and armed, and the sergeant 
rode them around the place to show off and properly to 
impress the inhabitants. They met the clergyman on 
his rounds, and saluted with great respect. 

Twice during the afternoon Joe ran up against the 
Rev. Ignatius Small, and at his request, accompanied 
him to the store, and introduced him to Ned Chipman. 

“ That’s a fine body of troopers you have up for es- 
cort,” said the clergyman. u I hear that you are taking 
down quite a large consignment of gold. I have never 
seen any considerable quantity of the root of all evil; 
would it be untimely if I asked to be allowed a glimpse 
of the precious metal which these gallant fellows have 
to safeguard to Maitland \ ” 

Ned apologised, and said the boxes were screwed 
down and sealed. 

“ Ah, that’s a pity. Well, I shall hope to see it some 
other time — down at Maitland, perhaps — where I 
have no doubt the heads of your firm will be pleased to 
show it to me. You’re coming to the service, I hope. 
It will be quite like apostolic times, to hold it in the 
open air under the spreading branches of your assembly 
tree. I hope by the time of my next visit, a hall or 
church may have been erected. Your firm would no 
doubt give a liberal donation to such an object.” 

All this time his eyes w r ere wandering around the 
store, and then he said : “ I hear that this good gentle- 

man is a friend of yours, Mr. Chipman. I am hoping to 
have the pleasure of his company to-morrow, when rid- 
ing through on my way to Maitland. I am most for- 
tunate in having arrived just now. You know, I have 
a great dread of these bushrangers; but then, I believe 
they always show some deference to the cloth.” 


THE OUTLAW 


192 

Joe noticed that Ned Chipman eyed him with special 
interest. He was a fine looking, youngish man, a little 
shabby, but his dress was of strictly clerical cut, with a 
large brimmed, black, soft felt hat. There were a num- 
ber of customers and others in the store and he chatted 
and shook hands with them alL 

“ My word ! ” said a miner, as he went out, “ that 
chap’s got a hard hand and a strong grip for a 
parson.” 

Ned had a great deal to attend to, so he asked Joe to 
escort the ladies to the service. A big crowd gathered', 
but no clergyman arrived. The extemporised platform, 
which did duty as a pulpit, was occupied by the little 
Cornish Methodist, who explained, with many apolo- 
gies, that he had to act as a substitute, as the clergy- 
man has been suddenly taken ill. 

The ladies occupied the manager’s bedroom that 
night, and Ned and Joe made up beds with a pile of 
bags and blankets on the counter; but they did not 
undress, nor sleep much; Ned was too excited and had 
too much to talk about. 

“ Did you see a bit of a dark shanty a short distance 
from where you camped last night ? ” he asked. 

“ No,” said Joe. 

“ Well, it’s there,” said Ned. “ It’s a sly grog-shop, 
owned by Pat Hogan, who’s friendly with all the bush- 
rangers in the district. That was Pat Hogan’s tent 
you saw; it’s a short distance from the shanty. Sa- 
lathiel’s gang are up here after our gold, and that clergy- 
man is none other than Salathiel himself. Imagine the 
cheek of the thing! It’s adding insult to injury, to 
come swaggering around here as a clergyman, but he 
does it to rights; he’s an educated man, you know; he 


A GILDED PILL FOR SALATHIEL 193 

was a convict once, aiul assistant bookkeeper at Eurim- 
bla Station, down Maitland way.” 

Joe was completely staggered at this information. 
He gasped out, however, a You’ve got the troopers in 
town ; why don’t you have Salathiel and his gang up at 
the camp arrested?” 

“ Ho use, my boy,” said Ned, putting his hand on 
J oe’s arm, and speaking very quietly, “ you don’t know 
what dare-devils these fellows are; they have made a 
regular sweep of things this time, and I hope it will 
stir up the authorities to do something to clear the 
country of the wretches. The troopers who have been 
parading around are all bushrangers; they must have 
entrapped the escort and have them in safe keeping 
somewhere. Goodness knows, they may have shot some 
of them; they are wearing the troopers’ uniforms. 
We’re in a pretty pickle, old man. I only hope that 
Tom Nugent has pushed along with the wool. I told 
him to get through as quickly as possible, as we wanted 
to make a shipment, and said that he would have a 
few days off, at the other end, if he did so.” 

u Whatever is to be done?” Joe asked, in amaze- 
ment. 

“ Hothing,” said Ned, u just nothing. It’s no use 
telling the women-folk; we should only frighten them, 
and we can’t trust any of the people here. The only 
two constables we have are away at Cassilis, on what is, 
no doubt, a fool’s errand. The bushrangers got every- 
thing in their hands this time, and that’s why Salathiel 
is so cock-sure about it; our only chance is to outwit 
them.” 

Ned got out the gold boxes, and they filled them up 
with the copper pyrites, and then sprinkled a little 


THE OUTLAW 


194 

coarse gold on the top of each of them. The gold was 
paler than usual, as it had a little silver with it. They 
had picked out the smallest of the pyrites to put on 
top, and it would have taken a gold expert to know, at 
sight, the difference. 

Ned covered it up well with paper, screwed down 
the lids, and sealed them up with red sealing-wax. 
The boxes were not quite so heavy as they would have 
been if filled with gold, but as Ned said, “ it was a 
good enough haul for a lot of beggarly bushr angers.” 

“ Now,” said Ned, “ we must fix up something for 
you to carry on your pack-horse as a bulk sample. 
Fortunately, I have some load-stuff that was brought 
in by some miners a few months ago.” 

It was early morning before they pulled the blankets 
over them, and tried to get to sleep. It was a long 
time, however, before they closed their eyes in slum- 
ber, for the thought of what might happen on the 
morrow. 

Joe heard Ned at last breathing heavily in his sleep, 
but he lay awake for some time after, listening to the 
mice running about the store and imagining all kinds 
of evil. He slept at last, dreamt that a stalwart bush- 
ranger was standing over him with a pistol pointed at 
his head, and sprang up to grapple with him; but it 
was only Ned, candle in hand, shaking him to get up. 

“ My word, young man, you squared up like a boxer 
at me! ” said Ned; and then they laughed as Joe told 
him his dream. 

They had arranged to make an early start, and at 
six o’clock the supposed troopers and clergyman were 
waiting outside the store. Ned was a “ close ” man, 
and hadn’t told the chief storeman of his intention. 


A GILDED PILL FOR SALATHIEL 195 

When the big bay mare was put into the gig and every- 
thing, including the gold-boxes, loaded up, he took the 
troopers out a stiff glass of whisky each, and asked the 
clergyman if he would have one, or a glass of wine. 

“No, thank you,” said Mr. Small. “Til just go 
round to the yard, and see if our friends are all ready. 
. . . You’ve got the gold safe ? ” 

Ned nodded, and lifting up a rug, showed him the 
boxes at the back of the gig. 

The clergyman looked at them, nodded confidentially, 
and then rode up to where Mrs. Connell was waiting on 
her horse, and began to expatiate upon the pleasure of 
an early morning ride through the Bush. 

Joe jumped into the saddle, and unhitched the pack- 
horse from the fence. 

“ All aboard ? ” queried Ned. 

“ Yes, go ahead,” was the reply, and off they started. 

The sergeant and the troopers rode first; then came 
Ned with the gig and Miss Lewis. The Rev. Ignatius 
Small had attached himself to Mrs. Connell. Joe 
followed close behind; and at a short distance in the 
rear rode the three other troopers. They looked a for- 
midable party, for they were all armed; but as Joe 
trotted along, to keep up with them, he felt terribly 
down-hearted. A sensation came in his throat as 
though he were half choked. He knew that Ned Chip- 
man was a determined fellow, and he was afraid of 
bloodshed; but what could two men, with a couple of 
women, do against five well-armed bushrangers ? 
Their only chance, as Ned said, was to outwit them. 

The main north-western road passes close to Baker’s 
Creek, so, on striking that, Joe shook up his horses, and 
got on the other side of Mrs. Connell. The clergyman 


THE OUTLAW 


196 

was making himself uncommonly agreeable to her; and 
unconscious of what was before them, she laughed and 
joked back, in evident enjoyment of the ride, possibly 
flattered by her companion’s compliments and attentions. 
They were talking of the forthcoming marriage, and 
of the intended bride and bridegroom in the gig. 

“ You’re married, of course, sir ? ” said Mrs. Con- 
nell to the clergyman. 

“ That happiness has not yet fallen to my lot,” he 
answered. 

“ Ah, then, you ought to be,” she replied. “ Clergy- 
men should be an example to the flock, you know.” 

“ Ah, it’s not every day, madam, that a man falls in 
with a lady like yourself, or there would be fewer bach- 
elors in the world ! ” he answered gallantly. 

“ But you must have plenty of opportunities of meet- 
ing with nice women,” replied the lady. 

“ Fewer opportunities than you have any idea of,” 
he said ; and then after a short pause, he added, laugh- 
ing, “ Some day, perhaps, I shall run away with a 
lady like yourself.” 

“Run away with her!” ejaculated Mrs. Connell in 
surprise. 

They had been walking the horses up a steep hill, 
and the road now being level, Ned started the mare off 
at a swinging trot. It was a fine animal, and during 
the next two hours they covered a good sixteen miles. 
The troopers in front wished to travel more slowly; 
but Ned kept the mare close at their heels and pushed 
them along. 

It was a glorious autumn morning, and although Joe 
was much disturbed over the situation and keenly alert, 
he could not help remarking the fragrance of the Bush 
and the rich odour of the gum-trees. They were near- 


A GILDED PILL FOR SALATHIEL 197 

ing Downfall Creek, which ran through a hollow, with 
the Hunter Ranges to the right — as wild and lone- 
some a country as any in that part of Hew South Wales. 

The clergyman seemed to he occupied with his 
thoughts, and had said but little for half an hour, when 
all at once he remarked to Mrs. Connell, “ I suppose 
you’ve never yet had an encounter with bushrangers, 
madam ? ” 

“ Dear me, no ! the dreadful creatures ! ” she replied. 
“ But we are safe enough with the troopers and so 
many other gentlemen to protect us. They surely 
would not dare to stop such a formidable company as 
ours ? ” 

“ We must not he too sure, madam,” said the clergy- 
man. “ Daring men will risk a good deal for such a 
prize as Mr. Chipman has in the gig yonder; but you 
need be under no apprehension. I’ve had several en- 
counters with them ; all that you have to do is to keep 
quiet, and you will come to no harm.” 

“ And let them steal the gold ! ” exclaimed Mrs. Con- 
nell. 

“ Oh, that’s the men’s business,” he said. “ Ladies 
and clergymen, you know, never fight.” 

“ I don’t know so much about that,” said Mrs. Con- 
nell. 

They had turned a corner of the road and, at the bot- 
tom of a short hill, saw Downfall Creek in front of 
them; a shallow sparkling stream, running over a peb- 
bly bottom, and on the other side, drawn across, so as 
to completely block the road, was Tom Nugent’s bul- 
lock team. 

“ Hallo ! he must have lost his bullocks or met with 
an accident,” said the clergyman, as he quickened his 
pace and rode up to the gig. 


THE OUTLAW 


198 

Ned and Joe knew very well that there had been no 
accident, for Tom must have travelled a good ten miles 
that morning, so he could not have lost his bullocks. 
Joe rode closer up to Mrs. Connell, and said in a some- 
what shaky voice, “ Whatever happens, Mrs. Connell, 
don’t be alarmed ; they won’t hurt you.” 

Joe’s words were braver than his heart, however, for 
after the clergyman’s attentions to Mrs. Connell, he 
thought, there was no knowing what might be the se- 
quel; but he didn’t know Salathiel! 

As they reached the creek, Joe saw the clergyman 
point a pistol at Ned Chipman, and immediately there 
was a cry of “ Bail up ! ” from one of the supposed 
troopers who had approached them from behind. 

Resistance, of course, would have been worse than 
useless, for, from behind the wool team, there suddenly 
appeared Ned Fenton and Dandy Snow, Joe’s hospi- 
table entertainers at the miner’s camp. 

Ned Chipman made a small show of resistance, but 
it was only a feint, and they were soon standing dis- 
armed in the road, with their hands up, in company 
with Tom Nugent. 

The wool team evidently hadn’t been interfered with, 
and Ned looked significantly at Joe, who read, in his 
eyes, the hope that he might yet outwit the bushrangers. 

“ I regret,”' said the pseudo-clergyman, who may 
as well be called Salathiel, “ that we shall have to de- 
tain you for an hour or so; but as soon as the men 
have taken charge of Mr. Chipman’s gold you can get 
your lunch out, and have it down by the creek, where 
there is excellent water, if you wish to boil a billy and 
make some tea. Our men will arrange that no one 
comes along to disturb you. 


A GILDED PILL FOR SALATHIEL 199 

“ Good-bye, Mrs. Connell,” be said, taking off his 
hat politely ; “I have deceived you, but you remem- 
ber the old saying ( all is fair in love and war.’ ” 

Ned and Joe trembled as the bushrangers forced open 
one of the boxes, but they seemed satisfied, and the dis- 
guised troopers, with Salathiel, went off into the Bush. 

Ned Fenton and Dandy Snow, who were armed to 
the teeth, guarded the captives, and intimated that 
others of the gang were handy in the Bush. An hour 
dragged wearily by, and then they saw several men ap- 
proaching on foot. They were the escort proper, 
dressed in rough civilian clothes, and looking terribly 
crestfallen. They had been surprised while camping on 
the road, and tied up in the Bush, under guard, while the 
bushrangers donned their uniforms and came on to 
Baker’s Creek. 

Ned Chipman’s party got safely through to Branton 
that night, and the next day arrived at Maitland. It 
was moonlight, and Tom Nugent pushed through with 
his bullocks, breaking all previous records. 

There was great rejoicing when from the midst of 
the wool-bale they disinterred the Baker’s Creek gold. 

It should be said that the bulk sample of copper py- 
rites proved to be a gilded pill for Salathiel, for the gang 
soon found out how completely they had been taken in ; 
but not -until they had passed on to many of their Bush 
friends copper pyrites, in exchange for goods and ser- 
vices rendered. For a long time the stuff caused no 
end of trouble, for it was offered as gold in exchange for 
notes to various stores all over the district. 

For a long time afterwards, the whole country-side 
laughed at the story of how Salathiel and his gang had 
been taken in by Joe Crocker’s pyrites. 


CHAPTER XXV 


THE GLEN OF ADULLAM 

I F there was one thing which galled Salathiel more 
than another it was to be held up to ridicule, and 
the affair at Baker’s Creek made him the laughing 
stock of the Colony. It was the first really serious re- 
verse he had experienced since taking to the Bush. 
Notwithstanding his elaborate get-up as a clergyman 
and the capture of the troopers by his men, he had been 
thoroughly outwitted by superior stratagem. 

He had reason to believe also that he was losing his 
influence over some of the gang, for he knew they were 
laughing at him with the rest. He had overheard 
Dandy Snow say to Ned Fenton : “ Imagine thousands 

of pounds in gold and cash being carted away in a 
bale of wool, under one’s very nose, and the captain 
being tricked by the yellow glitter of a lot of copper 
ore. It’s too ridiculous, lads ! We ought to make that 
Ned Chipman and his firm sit up for it; some of them 
would laugh another way then.” 

But Salathiel would not hear of any paltry show of 
spite of this sort. “ They have beaten us this time,” 
he said; “ let’s take our gruel kindly; our turn will 
come later on if we have patience.” 

But there was another matter which annoyed Jack 
and further humiliated him. He had broken faith 
with his sister Ruth and gained nothing by it; and 
200 


201 


THE GLEN OF ADULLAM 

lie had destroyed all the high hopes of Betsy, that he 
would have nothing more to do with common high- 
way robbery. 

It should be explained that the visit of lieutenant 
Thompson to Salathiel while at the Valley had partly 
to do with a considerable fortune which had come to 
Salathiel through the sudden death of a relative. As 
an outlaw, any property he possessed was forfeited 
to the Crown ; but he had signed transfers to his sister, 
and her lawyer had managed to get the matter through. 
Ruth had agreed to hold Jack’s interest in her own 
name, and send him the income and proceeds, on con- 
dition that he acted only on the defensive and refrained 
from any robberies on the road. 

He had allowed himself, however, to be drawn into 
the “ sticking up ” of Browne and Co.’s gold to gratify 
the gang, and having committed himself to the affair, 
had carried it through with very unnecessary ostenta- 
tion and bravado. He had now a secret income which 
supplied him with ample means to keep himself and 
his gang in comfort, until such time as they could make 
good their escape from Australia. But the Baker’s 
Creek affair had been an utter and public failure, and 
Salathiel began to ask himself whether a supernatural 
power might not have prevented his actually stealing 
the gold, not for his own sake, but for the sake of Ruth 
and Betsy. 

It will be hard to explain to the reader how lonely 
and isolated Salathiel’s life at this time really was. 
The gang shared his money, but they had very few 
thoughts in common with him; they could not under- 
stand him, and were fast losing confidence in him as 
a leader. The newspapers of the Colony were ridicu- 


202 


THE OUTLAW 


ling him as a fustigated highway-robber, and the gang 
grew daily more restless and dissatisfied with his leader- 
ship. He was too bad for some people, and too good 
for others; and it put him in that perilous position 
which is popularly described as being between the devil 
and the deep sea. In fact, he was just now in danger 
of becoming a worse criminal, and a much more dan- 
gerous man than he had been before. If, on account 
of this last escapade, his sister, or Betsy, had thrown 
him over as a reprehensible renegade, he would prob- 
ably, in despair, have had recourse to deeper crime 
and violence. But, as soon as the failure to steal 
Browne and Co.’s gold became known, Ruth managed 
to send him a considerable sum of money, and Betsy 
wrote, boldly congratulating him upon the failure of 
his attempt to rob the Maitland firm. He took Ruth’s 
money and burnt Betsy’s letter, and, engrossed in his 
own thoughts, held himself still more aloof from the 
gang. 

The men’s disappointment was keen. They had 
planned this as their big coup-de-grace, and had hoped 
to divide the gold and disperse with the spoil, for under 
the influence of Salathiel, most of them had become 
convinced that the game of bushranging was not worth 
the candle, and would only lead to the gallows. 

But a new danger threatened ; S ala thiol’s rocky fast- 
ness in the Liverpool Ranges was becoming a sort of 
cave of Adullam, to which desperate criminals, as well 
as those who were driven into bushranging by mis- 
fortune and ill-treatment, resorted. Coarse, brutal 
thieves and murderers were in hiding there, who 
thought they had a right to be hail-fellow-well-met with 
Salathiel and his gang; and for his own safety and 


THE GLEN OF ADULLAM 203 

that of his men, he dared not openly quarrel with 
them. 

It will be seen that things were fast approaching a 
crisis; robberies and crimes with which Salathiel and 
his gang had nothing to do, but for which they were 
invariably blamed, were of frequent occurrence. The 
police were increasingly active, large rewards were of- 
fered for the capture of bushrangers dead or alive ; and 
in the case of convicts who gave information, or as- 
sisted in the apprehension of bushrangers, a free pardon 
was promised, and a free passage home. There was 
even talk of an organised effort, on the part of the 
Government, to storm the almost impregnable fastnesses 
which were the haunts of these desperadoes. 

On coming into his new wealth, Salathiel had de- 
cided at the first favourable opportunity to leave 
Australia; but he would not run away and desert the 
men who had made him their chief, so he determined to 
take the bull by the horns, and by careful organisation 
and force of arms, secure absolute command over the 
outlaws of the district. He decided upon this after a 
long conference with his men ; and, with their approval, 
admitted a few of the more reliable ex-convicts into the 
gang, and then let it be known through the district that 
only such road and other robberies as were arranged 
by him would be permitted. Salathiel intended that 
there should be no more such crimes of violence; but 
it would not do for him to make this known at present. 
He still intended to make the Colony pay tribute to 
himself and his gang, but he would do it in a more 
civilised way. 

The effect of this was a notable decrease of ordinary 
crimes of violence all over the district, and people be- 


THE OUTLAW 


204 

gan to breathe more freely, while the authorities, with- 
out relaxing their vigilance, carefully watched to see 
how Salathiel’s now regime would eventuate. It was 
believed that some of the worst criminals had banded 
themselves together to destroy Salathiel, and that fight- 
ing was going on in the ranges between Salathiel’s gang 
and other less civilised outlaws. It was at this time 
that Eurimbla Station was “ stuck up ” by the Gilbert 
gang; and Joe Brady, the station bookkeeper and Jack’s 
old friend, was brutally murdered in cold blood. 

Within three days afterwards, two notorious outlaws 
and murderers, George Gilbert and Pat Morgan, who 
had led the attack upon the station, and been seen in 
the act of murdering Brady, were found dead, hanging 
by the neck from trees upon the Maitland road. A 
notice was attached to the bodies which ran as follows : 

“ Executed after full inquiry and proof of guilt, for 
the brutal murder of Joe Brady, a white man and de- 
serving citizen. 

“ By order, J. J. Salathiel.” 

The effect of this exhibition of lynch law was many- 
sided. It made Salathiel not a few enemies among the 
criminals who were, like himself, outlaws in the Bush ; 
and the authorities, newspapers, and general public 
did not know how to take it. They rejoiced at the 
death of two bloodthirsty scoundrels ; but they rejoiced 
with trembling, for this was a subversion of authority 
which might result in unexpected deeds of violence. 
The man who was capable of taking the law into his 
own hands in this fashion was equal to anything. 

But it was force of circumstances rather than choice 


205 


THE GLEN OF ADULLAM 

which was driving Salathiel into desperate courses. 
Living much alone in a cave which overlooked the re- 
markable glen he and his gang occupied, he was fast 
becoming a fanatical misanthrope. Sentinels were 
posted at every point of access, and he enforced his will 
upon the members of the gang, whom he had now sworn 
to render him implicit and unquestioning obedience. 
He brooded over his wrongs and the hopelessness of 
his environment, and imagined himself a modern David, 
in a cave of Adullam, under divine protection. His 
hallucination made him absolutely fearless of others 
and reckless of his own life. He believed himself 
supernaturally guided by voices, visions, and dreams, 
i m mune from ordinary mortal ills, a man whom no 
weapon could wound. “ His enemies sought him, but 
found him not, because God delivered him not into 
their hands.” He spent whole days and nights reading 
the old Jewish Scriptures, and attained an ascendency 
over the gang such as is usually associated only with 
religious and superstitious fanaticism; he had become 
as hard and inflexible as the lone, rugged mountain 
stronghold in which he had been forced to make his 
home. 

For the time he became the dictator and terror, for 
good or evil, of the whole district; and the only people 
who benefited much by his remarkable regime were the 
convicts, who were protected against ill-treatment by the 
fear of a visit from the gang. In such cases, Salathiel 
would flog the offenders, and levy heavy fines upon 
them, which were collected in a summary fashion. Sa- 
lathiel called these visitations, “ Acts of justice ” ; but 
the authorities called them, “ Robbery under arms.” 
On occasion, a whole township would be held up by 


206 


THE OUTLAW 


Salathiel, while he inquired into charges laid against 
individuals or institutions, and if he could get a good 
case against a bank it was invariably mulcted in heavy 
penalties. All this was in absolute defiance of law and 
order, but it went on throughout the winter and spring 
without any specially organised effort on the part of the 
Government to put it down. Ordinary highway rob- 
bery had practically ceased ; but a new terror had arisen 
which, although, to some extent, it made for law and 
order, was, as a whole, intolerable. 

By evil-doers of all classes, and they formed a good 
proportion of the community, Salathiel’s rough and 
ready remedies were regarded as worse than the disease. 


CHAPTEE XXVI 

FOES IN COUNCIL 

rpHE following summer was the hottest and most 
trying of any recorded for many years. A 
drought had set in at the end of September, and Jan- 
uary came without any sign of general rain. People 
w r ere depressed and irritable, money was scarce, and 
Salathiel had recently imposed a fine of one thousand 
pounds upon a leading bank, and collected it in his 
usual summary fashion in fifty pound notes. 

The hank had foreclosed in a harsh and arbitrary 
manner upon a station property belonging to the widow 
of a highly esteemed squatter recently deceased. The 
station manager had done his best, fighting the 
drought and other evils, day and night, on behalf 
of the widow and her children, and paying nine 
per cent, interest ; but one trouble had succeeded 
another, and the interest payments had fallen con- 
siderably in arrears. The local bank manager had been 
called to task for allowing the account to run up, and 
was instructed by his head office to file a bill for fore- 
closure, compelling the widow at once to redeem the 
property, or forfeit her rights. 

“ You know, my dear madam,” said the bank man- 
ager to the weeping widow, u it is very hard for me 
to do this; but business is business, and I have my in- 
structions from Sydney.” 


207 


208 


THE OUTLAW 


It was well known, however, that the property was 
of exceptional value, and that a couple of good seasons 
would, probably, not only pay off the whole mortgage, 
but add a thousand or two to the station account. 
The bank, however, had a buyer in view; the widow 
was in debt, and her account unprofitable, so she had 
to go. 

One morning, in her shabby lodging in Sydney, how- 
ever, she received an anonymous gift of a thousand 
pounds in bank notes. It made the widow’s heart leap 
for joy, but, as requested by the anonymous donor, she 
said nothing to any one about it. It was a trifle less 
than the amount of profit the bank had made by the 
sale of the station. 

Salathiel had told the manager that he was acting 
on behalf of the widow and orphans, but without their 
knowledge, so Mr. Screwall, of the bank, was sent to 
her Sydney address with a plausible excuse to try to 
discover whether she had received this money or not. 
Being a wise woman, however, she saw through the 
dodge and held her peace. 


“ It will never do, Captain Moore, to have this state 
of things continuing,” said the Commissioner of Police 
one morning to his colleague. “ Salathiel will have to 
be taken, dead or alive, and you will have to do 
it quickly. His audacity passes all bounds. We 
shall have him coming down to Sydney with his pistol, 
demanding a departmental inquiry into the working 
of the office. But, joking aside, the Chief Justice is 
terribly put out about this bank business ; he says it is 
casting ridicule upon our high courts of justice, and 


FOES IN COUNCIL 209 

that for Salathiel to be at large is a disgrace to the 
administration of the Colony.” 

“ That is all very well,” replied Captain Moore, “ but 
will you tell me how the thing is to be done ? To send 
any large body of men up into the Liverpool Ranges at 
present would only be to send them to their death. 
You have no idea of the wild and inaccessible nature of 
the country, and the multitude of 6 Bush telegraphs ? 
and other people Salathiel has in his pay. We have sent 
some of our best men up there in squads and alone, in 
all sorts of disguises ; — some of the best Bushmen 
we had in the force. The last one — who would go 
alone — was absolutely lost in the Bush there. He 
travelled around in circles for some days, then went off 
his head a bit, and let his horse go. Losing all hope 
of rescue, he made his will, and wrote to head-quarters 
on the leather flap of his saddle, and, exhausted and 
delirious, lay down to die; some of Salathiel’s men 
found him at the last gasp, and nursed him back to life 
in the hollow trunk of the great gum-tree, where he 
says he saw bunks fixed up for six men. His horse 
was found for him, and they led him miles through the 
Bush blindfolded, and putting him on the main track, 
warned him not to show himself in those parts again, 
or he would be shot on sight. 

“ It is useless,” he continued, “ to attempt to take 
these outlaws in their Bush resorts. Our prominent 
citizens and politicians, who rail at the police for not 
capturing them, have no conception whatever of the 
wild fastness in which these men live ; and as for Bush- 
craft, there are very few men in the force who know 
anything about it. Our only chance is to get one of 


210 THE OUTLAW 

their own men to betray them, or catch them in the open 
country.” 

“ Could not you trap Salathiel in some way ? ” said 
the Commissioner. “ Are there no relatives or friends 
with whom he corresponds, or keeps in touch ? ” 

“ I have tried that in half a dozen ways,” replied the 
Captain. “ I am informed by a man called Silas 
Stump that there is a settler’s daughter in the Bluff 
Valley, down on the south coast, who occasionally re- 
ceives letters from him (you remember he personated 
a school-teacher there named Bennett) ; then, the 
daughter of old Salathiel, of Drosena & Co., is sup- 
posed to be in touch with him, and Lieutenant Thomp- 
son of the mounted infantry is a sort of connection; 
but you can’t prove anything, or do anything, with 
these people. I suggested to the Lieutenant that he 
should make an appointment with Salathiel, and blow 
his brains out while he signed his name to a document. 
But he ordered me out of his house.” 

“ I’m not surprised at that ; it would be next door 
to murder, to shoot a man in that cowardly fashion,” 
said the Commissioner. 

“ But he’s an outlaw,” replied the Captain, “ and we 
want to get rid of him.” 

“ That is so ; but he is a clever and brave man, out- 
law and fanatic as he is ! He’s not a man one would 
care to kill like a rat in a hole. Can’t you suggest 
some plan, by which he might be captured in a decent 
and honourable way? I believe the Governor would 
double the reward, and it would he a great thing for 
your reputation if you were successful. You’re a good. 
Bushman, they say ; why don’t you go up yourself, and 
take half a dozen men with you, in disguise? . . . 


FOES IN COUNCIL 21 1 

Phew! How hot it is! They say miles of Bush 
are burning, and that crops and settlers’ homes are suf- 
fering terribly.” 

u I have an idea,” said Captain Moore after a long 
pause, during which a good deal of tobacco was burnt, 
for both gentlemen were smoking ; “ if these hot winds 
continue for another week, I think it might he worth 
while to try and smoke Salathiel out. We’re almost 
certain to suffocate some of them.” 

“ But it’s a serious criminal offence to fire the Bush, 
especially in such terrible weather as this. Did you 
see the c Gazette ’ this morning ? The thermometer 
yesterday afternoon was one hundred and seven in 
the shade, and the heat at Parramatta, made worse by 
the Bush fires, was so excessive that immense num- 
bers of large fox-bats were seen to drop dead from the 
trees, and in other places the ground was covered with 
small birds, some dead, others gasping for water. 
The wind was north-west and burnt up everything be- 
fore it; Bush fires have broken out in all directions. 
Surely, it would be an awful thing to add to the gen- 
eral calamity by firing the Bush, even to destroy a 
gang of bushrangers ! ” 

“ Necessity knows no law,” replied the Captain 
ostentatiously ; “ this man has to be killed or captured, 
and the present is a chance in a thousand. Look at 
this rough sketch of Salathiel’s lair in the Ranges. It 
has come to me from a trustworthy source; see, there 
are only three tracks which give access to the glen, 
and they wind for miles through most rugged and in- 
accessible country, all thickly timbered. The glen — 
they call it Adullam, I believe — is surrounded on 
all sides by heavy timber, and there are plenty of 


212 


THE OUTLAW 


trees growing down in it. If we could once get the 
forest fairly alight with a strong, hot wind blowing 
from the north-west, I am inclined to think that we 
might, by good luck, suffocate the whole box and dice 
of them; the glen would become a perfect oven.” 

“ It is an awful proposition,” said the Commissioner, 
in a non-committal voice ; “ but if you go up, you might 
fall in with him elsewhere, and capture or shoot him, 
without resorting to such a desperate course as you 
suggest.” 

The matter was left there, as questionable matters 
often are by people in power, without anything def- 
inite being decided; but it was understood that Cap- 
tain Moore was to go north, and take as many picked 
men with him as he thought advisable. Dead or alive, 
by hook or by crook, Salathiel was to be taken. 

Captain Moore’s secret was well kept; but several 
weeks passed before he left Sydney for Maitland, for 
a southerly gale, with thunder and lightning and rain 
and hail, put out the Bush fires, and brought tem- 
porary relief to the gasping citizens. 

The Captain, however, had only told the Commis- 
sioner a portion of his story, for already he h^id 
elaborate plans made for what he called, “ Smoking 
Salathiel out.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


THE, LIVERPOOL RANGES 

T)ART of Jack’s letter from the school-house to 
Betsy’s mother was : “ If by chance any of you 

should fall into the hands of outlaws, say 6 I’m a 
Carey.’ ” Probably, when written, Salathiel attached 
but slight importance to the phrase; but it was one 
of the flashes from brain to pen which make pivots on 
which history turns. Bob was a Carey, and accord- 
ingly he was chosen to be the travelling companion of 
Amos Gordon to Salathiel’s stronghold in the Northern 
Ranges. 

It came about in this way. For several anxious 
months no letter from Salathiel had reached the Valley 
farm, when one morning Captain Fraser, of the Nancy 
Lee , unexpectedly appeared in company with Amos 
Gordon. They were the bearers of letters from Sa- 
lathiel, for he had found that Silas Stump, postmaster 
for the district, was not to be trusted. There was one 
for Mrs. Carey, and one for Betsy, which, judging 
by the brightness of her eyes and somewhat excited 
demeanour, contained good news. 

It would appear that during the months of silence 
Ruth Salathiel, with Lieutenant Thompson and Cap- 
tain Fraser, had arranged a plan for Jack’s escape 
from Australia to America, with certain of his men; 
but it was necessary that the details of the matter and 
213 


THE OUTLAW 


214 

other business should be more fully set forth by a 
responsible and trustworthy representative; so Amos 
Gordon had been chosen for the difficult and dam 
gerous task, as one to whom no suspicion could well 
.attach, and Bob, being young and strong, was to go 
with him. The Nancy Lee was lying at the Bailey 
Biver anchorage, and what was now needed was that 
Mr. and Mrs. Carey should agree to certain proposals 
regarding Bob and Betsy. 

The result of a lengthy conference was that Amos 
Gordon, with Betsy and her brother Bob, became pas- 
sengers by the schooner to Newcastle, via Sydney, 
and if the state of the Hunter Biver permitted, by 
steamer up to Morpeth, where Mrs* Carey had a married 
sister living who would be pleased to have Betsy as 
a visitor, while her brother and Amos Gordon visited 
the stronghold in the Banges. Salathiel had begged 
them to let Betsy go, that he might see her once more 
before leaving Australia. Fortunately, it was the long 
summer school vacation, so no explanation need be 
given to anybody about Betsy’s trip. 

Thus it came about that a week later the Nancy Lee, 
with Amos Gordon, Bob, Betsy, and other passengers, 
was passed by the Sophia Jane, the regular Newcastle 
steam packet, with Captain Moore and six constables 
on board, all carefully disguised as men of various 
callings, and apparently strangers to each other. So, 
although for different reasons, all these people were 
travelling Maitland way, each deeply interested in 
the lonely bushranger, who from his stronghold in the 
Liverpool Banges was now the outlaw autocrat of the 
northern district. 

On their arrival at Morpeth, Amos was not a little 


THE LIVERPOOL RANGES 


215 

surprised to find lio\v generally well-affected the people 
of the north were towards Salathiel. 

“ He has done what the Government and police 
couldn’t,” said a burly drover, who made no secret of 
the fact that he carried money with him to buy cattle. 
“ The northern roads,” said he, “ are now as safe for 
travellers as George-street in Sydney. Whatever mis- 
takes he and his men may make in regard to squatters 
and business people, there’s a rough-and-ready fairness 
about his methods and summary administration of Bush 
law which has put a wholesome fear into the minds of 
a good many folk who had previously robbed the widow 
and the fatherless, and trodden down the poor and 
needy when they thought they could do it with a whole 
skin.” 

After they had left Betsy in safe custody with an 
aunt, who gave her a cordial welcome, Amos and Bob 
betook them to the Royal Mail Hotel, where the atten- 
tive host showed them great deference. Two useful 
horses, with all that was necessary for their equipment, 
were in readiness. Their meals were served in a pri- 
vate room, and their sleeping-apartment was the best in 
the hotel. 

u Everything has been paid for, sir,” said the land- 
lord respectfully when Amos asked him for the bill. 
u You will find beds bespoke for you at the Queen’s 
Hotel, Patrick’s Plains, which is probably as far as you 
will care to ride the first day.” 

“ Do you know where I am going to ? ” asked Amos 
abruptly, who was not best pleased with the arrange- 
ment, and would have preferred to pay his own way. 

“ No, sir, I do not, but I am ordered to hold myself 
at your service.” 


2 16 


THE OUTLAW 


Amos could get nothing more from the man, but it 
suggested to him the respect, or fear, with which Salar 
thiel had come to be regarded. Bob was elated at the 
attention shown to them, and although he said nothing, 
attributed it to the fact that he was a Carey. 

The morning of the third day found them travelling 
through an Australian eucalyptus forest due north of 
Jerry’s Plains. They had been overtaken in the early 
morning by a young fellow riding a well-bred horse, 
who said that he was looking for stray cattle. He had 
the appearance of a stockman, except that in addition to 
the stock-whip slung on his saddle, he carried a short 
rifle and pistols in his saddle holsters; although that 
was common enough in those days with travelling Bush- 
men. Amos and Bob had been cautioned not to men- 
tion the bushranger’s name, for fear of meeting with 
disguised police officers, so they travelled on for an hour, 
making almost due north, as they had been directed. 
Their companion told them that his name was George 
Lennox, of Cassilis Station, but whether he was one 
of Salathiel’s gang or a disguised trooper was an open 
question with both Amos and Bob. 

At the end of an hour Amos and Bob began to feel 
uncomfortable about this man; he was very friendly 
and inclined to be talkative, but Amos thought he knew 
too much about Sydney and too little about the Bush to 
be a station hand from Cassilis, so, in order to draw him 
out, he began to talk about a doctor who had recently 
been bushed, and was nearly perishing within coo-ee of 
a station. 

They had crossed a dry watercourse, and Amos, who 
was a good Bushman, and had no intention of trusting 
himself to the guidance of a stranger, pulled up a mo- 


THE LIVERPOOL RANGES 217 

ment to make sure as to which way the water ran when 
flowing there, for he knew that all the creeks on that 
side of the range must run south. Having satisfied 
himself, he cantered after his companions. 

“ IPs singular,” he said to Lennox, “ that so many 
otherwise capable men should lack the ordinary habits 
of observation necessary for safety in the Bush. I be- 
lieve one reason why the Australian Bush has been de- 
cried as monotonous and uninteresting, is that so few 
people in Australia know much about it.” 

“ You’re right there,” said Lennox. “ I don’t pro- 
fess to be an expert bushman myself. I can find my 
way over the foot-hills here to Cassilis Station; yet a 
few miles farther north, in the broken country, which 
is even more heavily timbered than this, one gully is so 
like another that to travel for days in a circle is far 
easier than inexperienced people think.” 

“ By the way,” said Amos, determined to end the 
suspense and to find out who the man was, “ I don’t 
think I introduced my young friend Mr. Carey to you. 
He’s from the south coast Like enough, you never 
heard the name before.” 

The stockman smiled, and said, “ You might have 
introduced your friend before, Mr. Gordon ” ; then lean- 
ing over he held out his hand to Bob, and as they shook 
said, “ The Careys are friends of Mr. Bennett, I believe ; 
that’s quite enough for me. We’ll canter a bit if you 
don’t mind; the country is fairly level for the next 
few miles; after that we shall have a bit of climbing 
to do.” 

It was a relief to both Amos and Bob to know 
that they had fallen into friendly hands, and they fol- 
lowed Lennox with alacrity, until he presently pulled 


2l8 


THE OUTLAW 


up again and settled down into the Bushman’s steady 
jog, which in this case meant something over four miles 
an hour. 

They soon remarked the growing wildness of the 
Bush scenery. There was no track, but their guide lit 
his pipe and jogged along with the confidence of o#e 
who is perfectly familiar with his surroundings. 

George Lennox, notwithstanding his previous dis- 
claimer, was an expert Bushman, and your expert 
Australian Bushman is one of the most self-possessed of 
individuals. He seldom hurries himself, yet is always 
on the move, and never gets put out whatever happens. 
If he has lost his bearings and there is no sun, he sits 
calmly down and smokes a pipe while his horse feeds. 
He knows the lie of the country and fall of its waters, 
and that certain roads and townships are north or south, 
or east or west, as the case may be. The growth of the 
lower branches of the big trees, or the moss on their 
round butts, or the hang of the shredded bark of the 
gums, tell him the points of the compass. He is a man 
of infinite resource so far as the Bush is concerned, 
and if you can get him to talk about it, will interest 
and surprise you as he interprets the many natural 
signs and voices which guide the experienced horse- 
man through the great, wild, tranquil spaces of the pri- 
meval forests and bushlands of Australia. 

“ We’ll keep a bit more to the right,” said Lennox; 
“ it’ll save a few miles to go up this gorge. There are 
some strangers about to the south-east, but by this time 
our look-outs should know all about them.” 

Amos and Bob turned their horses past some wild 
cherry trees to follow their guide up a stony pinch, in 
the direction of a gloomy-looking gorge. They were 


THE LIVERPOOL RANGES 


219 

wondering Low the man obtained his information, but 
it took them all their time, on such a path, to look after 
their horses. It was about the last place that an ordi- 
nary traveller would have chosen to climb the gorge on 
horseback, and yet it was the only possible entrance 
for miles. The local preacher and Bob Carey had no 
idea now of locality or direction ; but they were making 
for Oxley’s Peak, the highest point of the Liverpool 
Ranges, some four thousand feet above sea-level. 

The bushranger presently pulled up under some trees 
upon a tiny plateau, to let the sweating horses blow a 
bit, for the heat was great. The view to the south ex- 
tended for many miles, but nothing was to be seen save 
the tops of gum-trees, which spread at their feet in a 
great sea of dark sombre foliage. 

“ How do you know that there are strangers about ? ” 
asked Amos. 

“ By the cries and movements of the birds,” replied 
their guide. “ The crows and magpies are the best 
‘ Bush telegraphs 9 we have. They scent a new chum 
for miles, and hang about his track, and pass the word 
along to others, until the whole forest is on the alert; 
they are cunning rascals though; we only just saved 
one of Moore’s men a few weeks ago: he had been 
bushed for several days in the north-west gullies and 
was lying insensible with his face exposed. If he had 
been a Rtishman he would have pulled his hat right 
over his eyes for protection from crows and magpies; 
but these chaps they send up from Sydney are poor 
Bushmen. We mostly keep out of their way, just leave 
them alone — the ranges do the rest.” 

Lennox was right about the birds: crows and even 
magpies will pick out the eyes of unconscious men as 


220 


THE OUTLAW 


well as weak or wounded sheep and cattle. Of all 
enemies the carrion crow is most to be feared by a sick 
or wounded man lying in the Australian Bush. He 
scents misfortune from afar, he gathers in scores from 
unknown regions, and woe betide the helpless man who 
lies with his face unguarded from his fierce attacks! 
With his last consciousness the wounded Bushman in- 
stinctively pulls his soft felt hat over his eyes and face, 
as a protection against these black marauders. 

Bob Carey had been used to rough country, but after 
thirteen hours in the saddle he told Amos that he gave 
this trip best. For half an hour of the time they had 
been blindfolded and led by members of the gang, who 
had come mysteriously upon them. Hoary heights of 
basalt rock towered above, and occasionally deep dark 
chasms skirted the track. It was as though Nature, 
convulsed with internal torture, had at some time 
broken loose and shattered the mountains, hurling huge 
rocks about at random ; but ashamed of its own violence, 
had draped vast wreckage with soft green herbage and 
flowering shrubs and forest trees. But just then the 
mountain heights, as well as the valleys, lay scorched 
and shrivelled beneath hot winds and unwonted heat, 
even for an Australian midsummer. 

“ We had to blindfold you,” said Lennox in a tone 
of apology, “ for none who have not taken SalathieLs 
oath are allowed, under any circumstances, to approach 
the Glen of Adullam ; however, it saved you from seeing 
the most perilous portion of the track — the horses 
know it all right.” 

They were now climbing in single file by a path, 
flanked by a curious rock formation, which rose sheer 
above them for quite a hundred feet, while occasionally 


THE LIVERPOOL RANGES 


221 


they skirted precipices whose profound depth made the 
brain dizzy to think about, let alone look down upon. 

“ Give the horse their heads,” called out Lennox, who 
was riding in front, “ and keep your eyes toward the 
wall.” 

It was evident to Amos Gordon that no ordinary at- 
tack could reach those who had found refuge in the 
Glen of Adullam, “ the glen of justice for the people ” ; 
but the entrance was not the only notable thing about 
SalathiePs stronghold in the ranges. 


CHAPTEE XXVIII 


A LETTER FOR BETSY 

A MOS and Bob slept that night in tents in far more 
comfortable surroundings than they had antici- 
pated; but they saw nothing of Salathiel. 

The heat was intense, and next day the sun upon 
the tents proved unbearable, although they were pro- 
tected with large heavy flies, so Lennox, who evidently 
had charge of them, put them in possession of a cave 
apartment which had been quarried out of the rock. 

It was furnished with Bush-made tables and seats 
and a welcome abundance of soft skins and rugs; they 
found books and writing materials, and to men wearied 
with a long journey on horseback it was a perfect haven 
of rest. 

The following letter was written on the second day 
of their visit. It was the joint production of Amos 
and Bob, the former acting as penman, for, as may be 
surmised from the narrative, Bob’s education had been 
very much neglected. 

“My dear Betsy: 

“ Bob and I are writing this letter to you, for you 
are sure to be anxious about us. So far, all has gone 
well, but our host is absent, probably not having ex- 
pected us so early. We were met as promised, and 
taken good care of by a guide whom we will call 
222 


A LETTER FOR BETSY 223 

George. He advises us not to say too much about the 
trip on horseback, lest our letter should fall into hostile 
hands; but we may say that the roads about the bluff 
are level, compared with the dizzy heights and span- 
wide tracks to be passed over to get to where this is 
being written 4,000 feet above the sea. 

u We landed in the glen at dusk two days ago, after 
being thirteen solid hours in the saddle. It had been 
very hot, so you may guess we were ready for a wash, 
supper, and bed. We had all three to perfection. The 
supper was prime roast mutton, vegetables, bread, milk- 
pudding, and fruit, and we ate it in a house built en- 
tirely of saplings and covered with stringy bark. We 
only saw one person that night in addition to George, 
who supped with us ; he was a little man who waited at 
table. After a smoke we went to bed in a large tent, 
with two bunks made with com sacks stretched on sap- 
lings and nice clean white sheets and bed-clothes. 
George said, 6 We didn’t live in this luxurious fashion 
at one time, but there have been great doings here dur- 
ing the past eight months. You’ll be surprised when 
you see the place in the morning.’ 

“ Well, we were surprised next day, for all our ideas 
of bushrangers and their haunts were completely upset. 
We had porridge with milk and sugar, and eggs and 
bacon, and beautiful bread and butter for breakfast, 
and George asked afterward if we would like to have 
a canter over level ground on fresh horses, to take the 
stiffness out of our bones. Of course, we said yes, and 
in half an hour he brought three fresh nags, and we 
did a six-mile ride roimd the glen. Would you believe 
it? they have quite large paddocks under cultivation; 
the soil is volcanic, brown and black, and wonderfully 


THE OUTLAW 


22 4 

fertile. Wheat and maize and potatoes grow as well 
here as down in the valley. There are cattle, sheep, 
and horses, and a regular settlement with houses for 
the men — some of whom have their wives with them 

— and several big barns and stock-yards and milking- 
yards, which have been put up since the schoolmaster 
left the valley. And, by the way, it is a wonderful 
place for natural caves. 

“ You see, the people are all outlaws or escaped con- 
victs, and Captain Jack — that’s what they call him 

— has guaranteed their safety while they stay and work 
quietly under his orders in the Glen of Adullam. 
That’s what they call the place. He will have no lazi- 
ness, however, and he has a lock-up, and other methods 
of bringing refractory individuals to order. Tie will 
allow no rum or whisky in the glen, except under his 
control, and has a wonderful knack of managing people. 
George says the whole of the men are under strict mili- 
tary discipline. Guard is kept night and day, and 
every one is sworn to obedience. We have wondered 
that they submit so readily; but the fact that outside 
the glen only prison, flogging, or the gallows awaits 
them, must be a very great restraint when they occasion- 
ally feel inclined to kick over the traces. You see, 
they have abundance of good food and decent clothes 
without broad-arrow marks on them, and reasonable 
work and recreation with assured protection, and 
George says that many of the worst criminals amongst 
them have become, under Captain Jack’s government, 
thoroughly reformed men. Their great fear is that 
anything should happen to the captain, or that he should 
leave them; for in the eye of the law every one of 
them would have to go back to punishment or death; 


A LETTER FOR BETSY 225 

and yet George says that many of them are not crim- 
inally inclined at all. 

u The natural formation of the place is very wonder- 
ful. Oxley’s Peak towers 700 feet above us on the 
south-west, and in winter is often covered with snow. 
The glen seems to be surrounded with natural walls of 
rock, in most places several hundred feet of almost per- 
pendicular height. Cattle and horses brought in can- 
not get out again unless driven, as the only approaches 
are guarded night and day, and even if they were not 
so guarded it is a question whether strangers would be 
able to find or travel them safely. George says there 
are other similar freaks of nature in this great mountain 
range, but this is the best protected against outsiders. 

“ But the feature of this end of the glen is a fair- 
sized water hole or lake, surrounded by wattle and other 
trees, which simply swarms with fish. It has been 
made larger by an artificial bank, and empties itself 
in a boisterous cataract through a narrow precipitous 
ravine, which they call i Hell’s Mouth.’ 

“ We must leave off here, however, for word has just 
come that Captain Jack has returned, and has brought 
a Sydney gentleman with him named Bennett ; George 
says that we need not be put out, as there is accommoda- 
tion in the glen for several visitors. 

“ By the way — this is Bob’s remark — all the cattle 
we have seen in the glen are clean skins, Durhams and 
Shorthorns. We saw many recent tracks outside in the 
ranges, so there must be lots of strayed and unbranded 
cattle there. It is all unoccupied country. All are 
well. Look out for another letter soon. 

u P.S. — Dan Morley is here, stone blind. That is 
all we know about it yet. 


226 


THE OUTLAW 


“ PP.S. — George has just been in again; he has 
heard that the captain yesterday saved Sir James Ben- 
nett’s life and that the latter is a Q.C. Captain Jack 
has brought him in on a solemn promise of secrecy, in 
order that he may explain more fully to him his recent 
actions and the reformation of escaped convicts living 
here. They are all hoping, through him, to get pardons. 
God grant that they may not be disappointed ! ” 

It was a singular coincidence that Salathiel should 
have met and rescued Sir James Bennett at this par- 
ticular time, within less than a day’s ride of his strong- 
hold. With three of his men he was out after a 
notorious outlaw, who had committed many crimes of 
violence, and recently shot at some of his gang. Sala- 
thiel had warned this man some time before, that if he 
offended again he would be shot at sight, and he had 
defied him. They caught him in a half-drunken sleep 
in one of his hiding-places, with the spoils of a fresh 
robbery upon him. Among these he had a big flask of 
whisky, a purse, and two watches, one a gold presen- 
tation watch inscribed with Sir James Bennett’s name. 
Salathiel insisted on knowing where Sir James was; 
but the man was sullen and would give no information, 
so they tracked back for some hours, until they found 
the barrister tied to a tree, unconscious. He had been 
there all night, and in a short time he must have died. 
The convict Stokes had a grudge against him. 

The outcome of it was that Sir James Bennett re- 
gained his life, purse, and property; and his assailant 
was shot offhand, and buried under the tree where he 
had left his victim to die a lingering death. Bush fires 
had broken out to the east, so Salathiel brought the bar- 


A LETTER FOR BETSY 227 

rister to the glen for a few days to rest, and, mayhap, 
to form a better opinion of the outlaw to whom he owed 
his life. 

Possibly Jack had a further reason, for he had 
learned from Sir James of the presence of Captain 
Moore and his disguised troopers in the district, and one 
of his men had found out that a constable had warned 
a settler to clear out, as there was likely to be a big 
forest fire in a few days in the ranges. 

It was not difficult for Salathiel to surmise that the 
constable’s foreknowledge of the fire came to him semi- 
officially, and that it was intended by these means to 
drive him and his men out of their mountain stronghold. 
He resolved that, by hook or by crook, Sir James should 
accompany him to the glen, until the attempt to burn 
him out had proved unsuccessful. For even Salathiel, 
up to this, had no previous knowledge of the appalling 
fury of a great eucalyptus forest fire, lashed by hot-wind 
blasts from the burning sandwastes of the west. To 
start such a fire from six different centres was the colos- 
sal crime which had been planned, and was to be put in 
execution when Salathiel carried Sir James Bennett to 
his hiding-place in the mountains. 

The barrister was the more willing to go with Sa- 
lathiel when he knew that he was already cut off from 
access to the great northern road by a Bush fire. 


CHAPTER XXIX 


ENCOMPASSED BY FIRE 

S ALATHIEL saw Amos and Bob for a little while 
that night, and warmly welcomed them; but they 
thought him greatly changed, both in personal ap- 
pearance and in speech. He talked as one who realised 
grave responsibilities and was used to command and 
be obeyed. He did not wish to enter into any business, 
and the old smile and softness of speech came back only 
for a few minutes as he inquired about Betsy, and 
listened to a brief account of their journey. 

“ I expect you will be here for at least a week 
longer,” he said, “ for this fire in the forest is going 
to make trouble, so we will have plenty of time to talk 
over business. Lennox will look after you, and if you 
want me particularly, you will find me at head-quarters, 
where the Union Jack flies.” 

He spent the next morning with Sir James, disclos- 
ing much to him of his past life, and explaining his 
methods of managing the motley company he had with 
him in the glen, and the changes which had been 
wrought in the characters and conduct of some of the 
worst criminals after they had sworn allegiance to the 
Adullam brotherhood, and placed themselves under its 
protection. 

The barrister was evidently interested, and listened 
attentively to all that Salathiel had to say; he took 
228 


ENCOMPASSED BY FIRE 


229 

careful note of what had been shown him, but with 
professional caution made no comment, although he 
could not help confessing to himself that he had hap- 
pened on a very remarkable condition of things, largely 
brought about through the misfortunes of a very re- 
markable man. 

They were standing together on a crag platform 
hard by Salathiel’s cave apartment. Below them was 
the glen, and to the south and east great fires were 
visible, creeping slowly up the ranges against the wind. 

“ Sir James,” said Jack, “ you have now heard from 
my standpoint the story of how a too rigorous and in- 
satiable law may over-reach itself, and drive men into 
crime and outlawry. I want now to ask you two things : 
will you respect my confidence ? and, should I be taken, 
will you engage to defend me in your courts of law ? ” 

“ Jack,” said the barrister, turning round and reach- 
ing out his hand. “ There’s my hand on it. Yester- 
day you saved my life, and if the need should arise, 
you may count upon James Bennett moving Heaven 
and earth, if need be, to save yours. 

“ But look,” he continued after a pause, “ that fire 
is spreading farther north, and seems to be an unbroken 
chain on the south and east. It’s singular, is it not, 
to spread like that?” 

“ It is extremely singular,” replied Salathiel dryly. 
“ There is, to my mind, a good bit of Satanic singularity 
about the orderly march of that fire in this direction. 
It looks as though it had some one behind it.” 

It may be explained that the forest and its life was 
a new experience to Sir James Bennett, but Salathiel 
and others had noted how the cool, fresh, exhilarating 
odours of the early morning had been wholly absent; 


THE OUTLAW 


230 

how the hot winds smote like a blast from a furnace, 
and with the heat of the fires and sun withered leaves 
were falling from the great gum-trees in showers, and 
how the heat had been greatly increased by the ap- 
proaching nearness of the fires. 

A north-westerly wind was blowing, which by noon 
increased to a gale. A fire had clearly started at some 
distance to the north, although it was not yet visible, for 
smoke crept slowly through the glen and surrounding 
country during the afternoon, blotting out Oxley’s lofty 
peak and other heights. One portion of the forest 
only seemed quite free from fire, and that was to the 
west. As night drew on Salathiel watched this quarter 
of the heavens anxiously, for the forest there was thick 
with great trees, which in the heat of many succeeding 
days had become as dry as tinder. 

That night the sky all round, except westward, was 
brightly illuminated. It was hot, terribly hot; but it 
had not occurred to the dwellers in the glen that they 
were in actual danger; and when at seven o’clock on 
Thursday morning there was no wind and the smoke 
seemed less dense, Ned Benton and Dandy Snow, at 
the suggestion of the former, were sent by Salathiel to 
ascertain the extent of the fire to the north, and to learn, 
if possible, what damage had been done to the Liverpool 
settlers. 

Amos and Bob ate their breakfast leisurely, and 
smoked their pipes ; but by ten o’clock they were astir, 
for the north-westerly started to blow again, with in- 
creased force, and by noon the whole surrounding forest 
was surrounded by smoke, through which the sun shone 
hotly as red as blood. 


ENCOMPASSED BY FIRE 231 

Lennox came in then, with the news that a new fire 
had started to the north-west. 

u P eople talk about Bush fires,” he exclaimed, u but 
the term doesn’t describe the sort of thing we shall see 
to-night. Undergrowth and grass and crops will blaze 
hotly enough ; but for a sight calculated to strike terror 
into a man’s heart, a eucalyptus forest ablaze in a hot 
gale such as this beats everything. Why, the ther- 
mometer is 112 outside in the shade! ” 

During that afternoon everything human foresight 
could accomplish was done to save the houses and barns : 
Blankets were soaked in water, and roofs and walls 
saturated; but if, said Salathiel to the barrister, the 
fire gets over the black gully it will come sweeping 
down through the big trees in a torrent of flame. It 
must take everything before it. He would see clouds of 
lighted gas carried for hundred of yards before this 
gale, as was the case in 1826, when Sydney itself, ow- 
ing to the surrounding Bush fires, is said to have been 
more like the mouth of Vesuvius than anything else. 

Salathiel had hitherto kept Amos and Bob away from 
Sir James Bennett, as he thought it unnecessary to 
inform the barrister of their presence in the glen. 
u They would all be safe enough,” he thought, and 
he had seen to the sentinels who could shelter in caves, 
of which there were a number on the western heights. 
He had no present anxiety about their lives, although he 
knew that if the glen caught fire, the tall timber in it 
would soon make short work of their possessions. Be- 
sides, men had been moving horse and cattle feed into 
the caves all day, and nothing short of an earthquake 
could interfere with their water supply. 


THE OUTLAW 


232 

Just below the rock platform already mentioned, 
from which Salathiel and Sir James watched the prog- 
ress of the fires, was a vegetable garden surrounded by 
a cockatoo and brushwood fence. There was a swampy 
bit of gully and a spring of water in the garden, and 
some milking-cows came poking around, trying to break 
in, bellowing as though alarmed and fearful. Jack 
called the dogs to hunt them out, but they hung fear- 
fully around, so he sent a man to drive them into one 
of the open cattle-caves. The Bush birds flew low, to 
escape the smoke, and made unusual cries, as though 
in distress, and many fell fluttering to the ground, 
dying; flocks of white cockatoos, high in the air, flew 
southward, screeching loudly. It was as if all Nature 
were terrified. The very dogs followed apprehensively 
close to their masters’ heels. 

Later in the afternoon the roar of the fires became 
more audible, emitting a crackling sound like musketry 
firing, with an occasional dull boom or crash, like the 
explosion of a cannon, throwing up dense clouds of thick 
white smoke, as some old forest giant fell into the con- 
flagration. 

“ I fancy,” said Salathiel, “ that soon after dark 
you’ll see a rocket go up as a signal somewhere in the 
north-east.” 

“ Some of your men?” queried Sir James. 

“Not exactly,” replied Salathiel, with a smile; “we 
don’t burn down our own houses. Don’t you see that 
this fire is a planned thing? They expect to turn the 
glen into an oven, and roast us all alive ! ” 

“Never!” exclaimed Sir James. “Who would do 
such a thing ? ” 

“ Your acquaintance, Captain Moore. Look now to 


ENCOMPASSED BY FIRE 233 

the west, there’s the heaviest timber ; it’s heated through 
and through and, once fired, will burn like matchwood. 
It will travel with this gale behind it at fully fifteen 
miles an hour; hut to be most effectual, the fires on the 
windward side should be close upon us when it comes. 
In another two hours, if what I surmise is correct, 
you will see something in the way of a signal, and then 
the forest will be fired about a dozen miles to the west, 
and it will be down on the glen in a sheet of flame 
within an hour.” 

“It is incredible!” ejaculated Sir James. 


Said old Amos to Bob, as they watched the amazing 
conflagration from another position : “ You’ll see a 

sight to remember, my son, when it grows dark.” 

But it never grew dark! As night enveloped them, 
the whole arch of the heavens, save to the far west, 
grew luminous and lurid, as though the very elements 
were about to melt with fervent heat. 

It should be explained that thus far the glen had 
been free from one source of danger. The quarter from 
which the gale was blowing was not yet on fire, so no 
burning embers, sparks, or lighted leaves or bark were 
carried over them to drop on and fire the heated bush. 

They could see these messengers of destruction, which 
would travel, on occasion, many miles, flung up in 
thousands ; but the hot gale carried them away from the 
glen. 

So long as the western portion of the forest remained 
unignited, as Salathiel explained to Sir J ames, the glen 
was comparatively safe. He would go so far as to 
give Captain Moore the benefit of the doubt, and acquit 


THE OUTLAW 


234 

him of all connection with the fire, if there were no out- 
break to the west, and no signal. 

The two men sat and smoked for a long time in 
silence. It was a moonless night, but the burning 
heavens which overarched the doomed forest, even be- 
fore the flames were visible, had turned it into a very 
day of judgment. Sir James remarked that he could 
read the time by his watch — even the seconds’ hand 
was perfectly distinct. 

Every minute brought the roar of the fires nearer. 

There were many spell-bound watchers that night 
besides Jack and Sir James, waiting for the flames to 
overleap the intervening space and sweep down upon the 
glen in billows of destruction. 

“ I’ll take a glass of whisky-and-water, Salathiel,” 
said the barrister huskily. “ I’ll own up to it, this 
thing has got upon my nerves ; it’s magnificent, it’s un- 
paralleled — but it’s Hell ! ” 

Salathiel brought the whisky, and Sir James rose 
from his seat and gulped it down. Just then, to the 
north-east, a rocket rose in the sky, high above the con- 
flagration. 

“Did you see that?” ejaculated Salathiel, his face 
hot with passion. 

“ Wait,” said the cautious lawyer, “ it may not have 
been a signal at all”; but he shuddered even as he 
spoke. 

“ It’s that or nothing,” replied Salathiel. “ In an 
hour the fires, to south and east, will reach the glen, 
How is the exact time to fire the western forest, 
if they wish to destroy every living creature here.” 

For ten more minutes they waited, breathless with 


ENCOMPASSED BY FIRE 235 

excitement and suspense, and then a strange thing hap- 
pened. It was as though a great sword of flame had 
been unsheathed from the side of Oxley’s Peak, and 
pointed heavenward in the midst of the western 
woods. 

“ It’ll be here in an hour if this gale continues,” 
said Salathiel. u Oh, you fiend ! ” he exclaimed sud- 
denly, shaking his fist with passion at the west. “ You 
fiend of Hell ! you murderer ! And to think that you 
have the destinies of human beings in your hands. And 
that the Almighty permits it! And we have women 
and children in the glen, whom this pattern police in- 
spector has deliberately planned to roast alive ! ” 

“ Good Heaven, man ! he can’t know that there are 
women and children here,” said Sir James with a shud- 
der. 

“ He knows more than you imagine,” replied Sa- 
lathiel ; “ but he will hear more to-night than he bar- 
gains for.” 

He blew a silver whistle, and immediately two men 
appeared, and saluted respectfully. 

“ Ride up the glen,” he said, “ and hurry all the 
people to the southern caves. Tell the men to get plenty 
of water, and hang wet blankets at each entrance. That 
new fire in the west will be here in an hour. Have 
you got all the horses and cattle under cover, and the 
sheep? That’s right! The buildings and crops can’t 
be saved; it’s a question of life now, and with all this 
dry timber in the glen, even the caves may not save 
us.” 

Salathiel turned again to Sir James, who was scan- 
ning the west through a pair of field-glasses. “ I 


THE OUTLAW 


236 

would not have believed it,” he exclaimed ; “ it’s al- 
ready a sea of fire. Why, the trees are burning to their 
topmost branches.” 

“ Yes,” said Salathiel calmly, “ Moore will have light 
enough to-night to see by — those trees are many of 
them 250 feet high. They’ll have burning brands drop- 
ping everywhere in thousands between here and Pat- 
rick’s Plains. The fool, he’ll fire half the northern 
district before he has done ! But excuse me for a few 
minutes, I have some matters to attend to.” 

He hurried round among the men, calm and digni- 
fied, giving orders and wise counsels. He saw that 
the sentinels had been called into shelter — the fires 
were sufficient guard now. He spoke kindly and cheer- 
fully to women and children, and made sure that Pleet- 
foot was safe in the far recesses of a cave. He d Pen ton 
and Dandy Snow had not returned, but they were ex- 
perienced Bushmen, and Salathiel expressed his belief 
that they would be safe. Then he called up at the 
cave occupied by Amos and Bob, and helped them to 
put everything in a far corner, covering the furniture 
with rugs. “ They may escape,” he said ; “ but if they 
are burnt we shall not want them, for we shall not be 
alive. How,” he said, “ all of you come up with me ; 
you too, Lennox, and I’ll introduce you to Sir James 
Bennett. If it is to be the last night of our lives, we 
may as well spend it, like good fellows, together.” 

As they climbed the ridge Jack noted the time. “ It’s 
half an hour,” he said, “ since the outbreak to the west. 
It cannot be more than six miles away now. Listen to 
the roar of it! Hell-fire, that’s what it is! A devil 
lit it, and another devil fans it! The gale must be 
blowing forty miles an hour.” 


ENCOMPASSED BY FIRE 237 

Sir James evinced no surprise when he learned the 
names of the new-comers, but grasped them cordially 
by the hand. There was a sense of greater safety in 
numbers. No candles or lamps were lit in Salathiel’s 
apartment, for with the doorway open, it was light 
enough to see everything, and outside the lurid heavens 
ablaze above them seemed to make it brighter than day ; 
but it was an unnatural, almost an infernal, bright- 
ness. 

“ The main body of fire should be here at a quarter 
past nine,” remarked Salathiel, as though he were speak- 
ing of something which scarcely concerned them. 
“ Everything that can be done to mitigate or avert disas- 
ter has been done. We have nothing now to do but 
wait.” 

“ That’s the hardest part of the business,” ejaculated 
Lennox, puffing at his pipe. 

They were all seated outside on some fragments of 
rock, which had been arranged by some one as rough 
seats, but not a man of them spoke further. 

“ Look here, my friends,” said Salathiel suddenly, 
“ we had better talk, or the awful magnificence of this 
thing will unnerve us altogether, and perhaps incapaci- 
tate us for action when the crisis comes. Just look 
yonder at the lake, it’s crimson with the reflection of the 
sky ; and see, here comes the advance guard of the bat- 
talions of fire.” 

Lighted brands and sparks carried by the gale were 
now dropping thickly in the glen, like rockets from the 
sky. “ It’s useless to waste our strength trying to put 
anything out,” said Jack; “we shall want it presently 
to save ourselves. We can’t save the glen, that’s 
doomed. See, there goes Dan Morley’s shanty ! ” 


THE OUTLAW 


238 

“ What do you think of it ? ” said Sir James, turning 
around to Amos. “ I stood once,” he continued, “ on 
the deck of a burning vessel in mid-ocean; but for 
appalling splendour this surpasses everything ! ” 

“ It is like what the prophet saw at Dotham,” said 
Amos, in an awed, scarcely audible voice. “ The moun- 
tains around the city were full of chariots and horses 
of fire.” 

“ Ah,” said Salathiel eagerly, as though a familiar 
chord had been struck, “ that’s it ! ‘ He will deliver us 

from the devices of them that hate us.’ ” 

It was no use, however, the scene was too grand 
and awful, and the tension too extreme, for speech. 

Yet, there was one, a woman, who in that dread hour 
not only spoke but sang. A voice came from one of the 
caves : 

“ Hide me, oh my Saviour hide ! 

Till the storm of life be past.” 

The men listened to the weird, sweet melody; but 
no one spoke. It was strange in this supreme moment, 
when the whole sky-line seemed filled with death-faces, 
how these men, who calmly waited there for death by 
fire, should have been interested mentally in trivial 
tilings. 

They followed with their eyes the gradual descent 
of sparks and burning brands, wondering mechanically 
which would fire a house, or tree, or paddock first. 
They were interested in the wombats and other strange 
animals hopping and running about, with strange, terri- 
fied cries, near the lake. A couple of horses came gal- 
loping and snorting down the glen, with flowing tails 
and manes; but no one spoke. Presently came a dull 


ENCOMPASSED BY FIRE 239 

roar, and then a terrific explosion, which shook the glen 
and brought tons of rock down on all sides. It broke 
the spell! 

“ Come inside,” cried Salathiel, “ and I’ll close the 
door: that was the magazine exploded. Moore ought 
to hear it if he is anywhere between this and Kingdon 
Ponds.” 

What followed was beyond description. Sir James 
looked for a moment into what seemed, in a lightning 
glance, to be a furnace of blinding white flame. He 
drew back dazzled and suffocated, and banged the door. 
The glen was filled with igneous, stifling gases, which 
exploded with thunderous and stupefying reports, and 
burned with blue and white flames. The door, sheathed 
with iron, was bolted and barred, and the men sat near 
the wall, breathing heavily in the hot, noxious, suffo- 
cating air. Amos suddenly fell forward, fortunately 
upon some skins; he had fainted; all ran to his as- 
sistance. Salathiel loosed his collar and cravat, and 
Lennox sprinkled water upon his face. 

Half an hour of semi-suffocation followed. They 
gasped and panted; it was too hot to sweat; the fire 
seemed to have scorched and dried them to the bone. 

Presently Salathiel went to the door and listened for 
some time, and then flung it open. The glen was still 
burning like a furnace, but somehow they breathed more 
freely. He explained it in a few words. “ Thank 
God ! the worst is over. The wind has changed, and it 
has begun to sprinkle with rain.” 

Alas! there were those, in other hiding-places, for 
whom the change had come too late. 


CHAPTER XXX 


THE CHAMBER OF THE DEAD 

B LESSED is the rain which falls through a fire- 
scorched atmosphere upon a fire-burnt land. 
There is life and healing in every crystal drop, and 
the blackened earth opens its myriad mouths to drink 
it in. 

There was no heavy rain, either that night or the 
following day, and the forest fires still burnt fiercely; 
but the wind had changed to south, and the rain which 
fell upon .the country saved the lives of those who had 
survived the horrors of the previous night. It had left 
marks upon most of them, however, which time would 
never wholly heal. Sir James that morning found his 
brown hair streaked with grey. Amos had received a 
shock from which he would never quite recover. Bob 
and Lennox had escaped ; but Salathiel carried an ugly 
burn on his left hand and arm, which he had received 
in one of his attempts to help others during the early 
morning. 

But it was the people in the lower caves who had 
suffered most, and among the dead were seven children, 
three women, and Dan Morley, all asphyxiated by 
poisonous fumes. Dan’s blindness had evidently 
brought about his death, for he was badly scorched, and 
had seemingly been suffocated outside the cave. It was 
known that sulphur was found in parts of the glen, and 
240 


THE CHAMBER OF THE DEAD 241 

probably sulphurous fumes arising through the great 
heat had lengthened the terrible death-roll. The deso- 
lated glen was still burning, and it is little wonder that 
on that sad morning Salathiel’s face was stern and 
gloomy, or that he should have been heard repeating 
from the Hebrew Scriptures : “ Of Thy mercy cut off 

mine enemies, and destroy all them that afflict my soul.” 

“ How soon can you get me out of this ? ” said Sir 
James, later in the day. “ I mean to go straight back 
and interview the Governor and Chief Justice, and 
lay the whole facts of this affair before them. Here 
are eleven persons practically murdered, and those who 
were principals or accessories to the crime ought to be 
immediately arrested, and eventually hanged.” 

“ There will be no one hanged by this administra- 
tion for the death of poor vagrants such as these,” said 
Salathiel bitterly; “ and I fear your mission will prove 
unsuccessful. But apart from that, it may be several 
days before we can see you safely on to the Maitland- 
road again. It will not be possible to travel through the 
ranges until the fires have either burnt out or been 
smothered by heavy rains. You see, the forest is still 
well alight, and it will continue so for several days : it 
is only the change of wind to the south that has cooled 
the atmosphere.” 

“ Have you food for all these people \ ” asked Sir 
James abruptly. 

u Plenty for a month or more,” replied Salathiel. 
cc We have stores of all kinds in the caves, and fodder 
for the animals; but I am thinking now of the dead 
more than the living ; we have to entomb them at once, 
owing to the heat and because the cave in which they 
lie is needed for the living. Will you come and view 


THE OUTLAW 


242 

them, so that you could identify them if need be ? It 
may interest you also to witness the funeral ceremony. 
We don’t bury our dead in graves, you know. I might 
be tried some day for some one’s murder, unless I could 
produce the body on demand and prove the cause of 
decease.” 

“ Surely you are not able to preserve the bodies ? ” 
said Sir James. 

“ That’s just what we are able to do,” replied 
Salathiel ; “ but come and see.” 

They walked for a quarter of a mile along the natural 
terrace which flanked the western rock-wall of the glen. 
Heavy timber was still burning on the flats, but the 
whole of the undergrowth and grass had already been 
destroyed. What on the previous day had been so fair 
and green, was now a bed of hot black ashes, dotted 
over with fallen trees, still smouldering red, or blazing 
with yellow flames. 

They found only Lennox in the cave; he was com- 
pleting some of the last offices of respect and mercy to 
the dead. The bodies lay side by side on a raised plat- 
form, the eyes of each closed down and covered with a 
silver coin. The faces seemed strangely dark — the re- 
sult of death by suffocation; but the features were 
placid, and two of the younger children, girls of seven 
and ten, with well-proportioned, rounded limbs and 
cheeks, and sunny curls, might, but for the colour of 
their flesh, have been smiling in their sleep. Their 
names and ages, carefully inscribed on cards, were fas- 
tened to the breast of each. They lay attired in the 
simple garments in which, on that night of terror and 
amazement, they had died, but covered with white vest- 
ments, in preparation for their simple burial. 


THE CHAMBER OF THE DEAD 243 

As Sir James carefully scrutinised their features, 
he made a note of names and ages in his pocket-book, 
and occasionally added a few words as to height, or 
other matters which occurred to him. 

“ I see there is a Mrs. Mary Conway, and Flora and 
Alice Conway, seven years and ten,” he said. “ Are 
they mother and daughters ? ” 

“Yes, poor souls! I found them in the Moonbi 
Hills in a shanty one day. The police were after the 
man for alleged cattle stealing, and the woman and 
the children were starving. I had them brought into 
the glen, and carried little Flora there, for miles, in 
front of me on the saddle. The husband is with us 
now, a decent chap enough, but fond of drink when 
he can get it; he’s heart-broken over this affair; per- 
haps it’s best for them, however,” continued Salathiel 
with faltering voice. “ I used to call little Flora there 
my kiddie, for her mother would have it that I saved 
her life. But listen! There’s the death-drum calling 
the people together for the funeral. The bearers will 
be here directly with the stretchers.” 

The funeral gave the barrister opportunity to see 
almost all the inhabitants of this strange place, and 
he stood aside as two men headed the procession with 
the body of Dan Morley; then came the corpses of the 
three women, and after them the seven children. Ned 
Fenton, Dandy Snow, and three sentinels were absent; 
but there were others, who followed as mourners, chief 
among whom walked Salathiel and Sir James. There 
was no crape, nor flowers, nor pomp of grief, but the 
sorrow was none the less sincere as they followed 
silently up the glen, over the still warm ashes of the fire, 
to the chamber of the dead. 


THE OUTLAW 


244 

Sir James asked no question; but be pondered long 
as to how they were going to dispose of all these bodies, 
and keep them so as to be produced, as Salathiel put it, 
on demand. 

They came at last to a turn in the glen where was 
a short flight of steps cut in the rock, which sloped at 
an angle to the north-west. The bearers wended their 
way upward, without any pause, and entered the large 
cave, to which access had thus been obtained. The air 
of the cave was hot, like all else about the glen, but it 
had a strange, sulphurous smell, and on a sloping edge, 
laid side by side, were five bodies, each perfectly pre- 
served, saving that the flesh appeared almost snow-white, 
as though bleached by some chemical. When all had 
entered, the bearers laid their burdens side by side upon 
the floor, and stood with bowed heads while Salathiel 
read a prayer and the ninetieth Psalm; each was then 
sprinkled with a little water, after the fashion of the 
Jews, and reverently placed upon the sloping ledge, the 
last one filling up the available space. Another psalm 
was read, the Hebrew benediction pronounced, and the 
sad-browed mourners returned in silence to the southern 
caves. Salathiel was the last to leave; he closed the 
heavy door and fastened it. Never perhaps was a sad- 
der or more silent funeral. It was as though the fire 
had bereaved them, not only of those dead ones, but of 
hope. 

That night there was a thunderstorm, and the rain 
poured down in torrents, and next day Salathiel made 
arrangements for his visitors to leave the glen. He 
took six of the gang with him, for care had to be taken 
of their guests, whose horses might accidentally tread 
upon burning embers and become restive; besides, Sa- 


THE CHAMBER OF THE DEAD 245 

lathiel thought it not unlikely that they would find 
police about, on the look out for any destitute wander- 
ers who might have escaped the fires. He said to 
Lennox as they rode along, u Captain Moore may get a 
bit of a shock if he falls in with us to-day. We are 
seven men, notwithstanding his fire, well clothed, well 
horsed, and well armed ; and, if he compels me to do it, 
I’ll make the glen as secure and comfortable and well 
provisioned as it was before the fire.” 

Said Sir Jamesi, as they rode abreast again in more 
open country, “ What is the secret of that cave of 
yours where you bury your dead ? What is it that pre- 
serves the bodies and bleaches them?” 

“ Sulphur,” replied J ack : “ when closed up, the 
caves become quite filled up with its fumes. You 
know one of the few burning mountains of Australia 
is not far away from us, and we think that it is some- 
how connected with the cave; but don’t ask me to 
explain the matter to you, for I can’t. We found out 
its preservative properties by accident, and after putting 
the door to it, they seemed to have been vastly in- 
creased. For myself, I would far sooner bury our dead 
out of sight; but under present circumstances it may 
be best to be able to show the bodies to the authorities 
if any questions should be raised as to the manner of 
their decease. However, you can answer, I think, for 
seven of them.” 

They were by this time clear of the fire zone, and 
dismounted by a creek to partake of lunch and let the 
horses crop the grass and herbage. 

“ I hope to be in Sydney in three or four days,” 
said the barrister. u I shall never forget what I have 
seen up here, and I will strain every legal and social 


THE OUTLAW 


246 

influence I possess to secure for you liberty to leave 
Australia; but you must not tie my hands by doing 
anything to prejudice my case. There must be no 
fighting with Captain Moore. No retaliation! Keep 
out of his way, and let me try other means for his 
punishment. Get whatever supplies you want, and 
pay for them; keep a firm hand on your men, and see 
that they don’t embroil themselves with any police who 
may be about. Act on the defensive by all means ; but 
keep quiet for a fortnight, and about then you shall 
hear from me for certain.” 

“ You are asking a hard thing, my friend,” said 
Jack; “ but so far as lies in my power I will do it. I 
think the very most they will offer will be to connive 
secretly at my escape from Australia ; but I am far from 
feeling sure even of that. Let me say, however, I will 
die fighting in these ranges rather than desert the men 
who have stood by me, and risked their lives many a 
time for my safety.” 

They were now only a couple of miles from the Mait- 
land-road, so at the lawyer’s request, Salathiel and his 
men went no farther, and Sir James, with Amos and 
Bob, rode on alone. 

The letter Amos had written to Betsy was one of 
several which had been entrusted to Sir James Bennett 
for delivery. Salathiel thought him the safest cus- 
todian in the event of the party being met and ques- 
tioned, or possibly searched, by Captain Moore’s police. 


CHAPTER XXXI 

THE MILITARY CALLED OUT 


T HEY proposed to go only as far as Kingdon 
Ponds that day, a hamlet on the Horthern-road, 
at the foot of the ranges. Amos was evidently suffer- 
ing from great weakness and fatigue, although the brave 
heart of the old man would not allow him to say so. 
They travelled slowly until their destination was 
reached, and stopping at the inn, handed their tired 
horses over to a convict man-servant. Here everything 
was done to make Sir James and his companions com- 
fortable. It surprised the lawyer, however, that no 
questions were asked by their host; the man seemed 
to have no curiosity as to whence they came or whither 
they were hound. Amos guessed at once that the ret- 
icence arose from Salathiel’s proximity. “ These peo- 
ple,” he thought, “ living in peace and quietness close 
to his stronghold, are not likely to say much ” ; but, 
shrewd lawyer as he was, Sir James, steeped in the 
prejudice of class, which blinds the eyes to the condition 
and thoughts of lowlier brethren, ascribed it to boorish 
indifference. 

nevertheless, what he had witnessed in the Glen of 
Adullam had caused a mental upheaval in the lawyer’s 
mind. He began to see things differently, and asked 
himself whether these sinners against society had not, 
after all, some moral rights ; and whether chains, hand- 


THE OUTLAW 


248 

cuffs, cat-o ? -nine-tails, and gallows were the best un- 
guents for the sores of the body politic. 

What had perhaps astonished him most was that 
these disreputable people, left absolutely to them- 
selves, should fly their country’s flag over that lonely 
mountain stronghold, even when hunted by the police 
like beasts of prey. It was a new idea that an outlaw 
might be a patriot. How otherwise was he to explain 
the Union Jack fluttering above this desperate Adul- 
lam brotherhood ? “ Wentworth was right,” he said to 

himself. “We want more humanity and justice; men 
like Salathiel are practically at the irresponsible dis- 
posal of the civil and military authorities. And the 
civil and military authorities here are machines with- 
out conscience or heart.” With such thoughts in his 
mind, he sat surveying the unfamiliar landscape as he 
smoked a cigar on the verandah of the inn. It was get- 
ting late in the afternoon. Amos was resting, and Bob 
waiting upon him with the affection of a son or younger 
brother. 

Kingdon Ponds seemed just then the quietest ham- 
let in Hew South Wales. It was pretty enough, on the 
slope of a small hill, with a willow-fringed creek, and 
almost surrounded by mountains. It lay to the south- 
east of the fire-blackened ranges, and the lawyer was 
wondering how it came about that the place had es- 
caped. Suddenly he heard the sound of a number of 
approaching horsemen. As they drew nearer he saw 
that they were soldiers, and that there were about 
twenty of them. The lawyer drew back into the shade 
of some creepers and watched them ride through the 
hamlet without stopping, as though in haste. 

“ What does this mean ? ” he thought. “ Seemingly 


THE MILITARY CALLED OUT 249 

they are riding to Murrurundi from Maitland ? 
What can they be after in such a hurry ? ” Then his 
mind naturally turned to Salathiel and the recent at- 
tempt of Captain Moore to burn him out. 

The landlord came forward just then to watch the 
troops as they disappeared up the road. 

“ What’s brought them here ? ” said the lawyer. 

“ You haven’t heard, sir ? ” answered the man. “ I’ll 
bring you the newspapers. They are after Captain 
Jack.” 

If, a quarter of an hour afterward, Sir James had 
gore up the hill a short distance, and turned into the 
Bush on the left, he might have seen the convict who 
had taken their horses climb to the topmost limb of a 
giant gum-tree. The man carried a small looking- 
glass, with which he was signalling by a system of code 
flashes, invented by Salathiel, to the bushranger’s look- 
out above the glen. He had flashed danger, and had 
been answered, and was then giving particulars of the 
number of troopers and other information gleaned from 
the newspapers. It was a rude adaptation of the prin- 
ciple of the heliostat, and by this means Adullam, al- 
though eighteen miles, as the crow flies, from Kingdon 
Ponds, was kept in touch with much that was happen- 
ing in the outside world. In fact, the inn, which to 
outsiders appeared like dozens of others on the road — 
a public-house with a fairly prosperous selection at- 
tached to it — was really a receiving store for Salathiel. 
Eor a week, however, the . fires had prevented any com- 
munication by signal until the occasion now described. 

“ Salathiel should be back in the glen by this time,” 
thought the lawyer, “ and a hundred soldiers could 
not do much against him there.” But he felt uneasy, 


THE OUTLAW 


250 

and was soon to be made much more so, for just then 
the innkeeper brought him several newspapers. He 
had not seen one for a week, and was glad to find among 
them both Maitland and Sydney journals. Two of the 
latter were dailies, so he had plenty to occupy his atten- 
tion. He sorted them out, arranged them as to dates, 
and then looked through the oldest. Finding nothing 
of much interest, he took the next. There was a para- 
graph in this, evidently inspired, which referred to an 
attempt about to be made by the police authorities to 
capture Salathiel and his gang. A later paper reported 
Sir James Bennett missing from his party. The fol- 
lowing day it was announced that information had been 
received of the lawyer’s capture by Salathiel’s gang. 
“ There was grave apprehension,” the report went on 
to say, “ that owing to Sir J ames’s attitude towards the 
bushranger at the ‘ sticking up ’ of Broadhaven Station, 
he might receive rough treatment, and even forfeit his 
life.” The same paper stated that fierce forest fires 
were burning in the northern ranges. 

“ Getting a bit more interesting,” said our friend, 
as he took up a paper of the next date. This was a 
late copy of the Maitland Mercury , published tri- 
weekly. It contained an article headed “ Salathiel sets 
the forest on fire.” 

“ That’s Moore all over,” thought Sir James, “ to 
carry the war into the enemies’ camp in that fashion. 
I suppose the fire proved a bigger and more destructive 
thing than he had anticipated ; so he has put the starting 
of it upon Salathiel’s shoulders ; but let’s see what they 
say?” The article, slightly abbreviated, read as fol- 
lows: 

“ The authorities have again been frustrated by the 


THE MILITARY CALLED OUT 251 

desperate strategy of the outlaw of the Liverpool ranges 
who, when the police had him and his gang practically 
in their hands, rather than be taken, fired the forest and 
drove back the cordon of police by a seething wall of 
fire. Miles of forest are now burning fiercely, and if 
the present hot gales continue, enormous damage to the 
surrounding country may be done. Great volumes of 
black smoke have in places darkened the sky, blotting 
out the sun for hours at a time. Grass fires have been 
lit in many parts by the dropping of burning brands, 
which the gale in some places has carried alight for a 
distance of fifteen and twenty miles. The sight of the 
burning forest from adjacent townships is described as 
magnificent, but the author of this disastrous conflagra- 
tion which, it will be seen by reference to another col- 
umn, has already caused the destruction of several sta- 
tion homesteads and hundreds of acres of grass and 
crops should be at once brought to justice. That any 
one man should be able to hold the authorities at defi- 
ance and menace the security of the country residents 
in this fashion is a reflection upon the Government. 
Captain Moore and his men are to be complimented 
upon their courage in following the outlaw to his lair, 
and every right-minded citizen will be thankful if he 
has the good luck to capture the gang. This fire should 
prove to Salathiel’s sympathisers — of whom, we are 
sorry to say, there are a good many in the northern 
district — how utterly reckless and callous he is for the 
losses and sufferings of the community at large. A 
man who could deliberately fire the forest during a 
continuation of hot gales such as the Colony has ex- 
perienced this week, is a monster in human form, de- 
serving the execration of every humane and law-abiding 


THE OUTLAW 


252 

citizen. A determined effort should now be made to 
take these miscreants and discover the fate of Sir James 
Bennett. If Captain Moore wants assistance to do this 
a strong detachment of soldiers should be sent up from 
Maitland to assist him.” 

“ Good Heavens!” ejaculated Sir James, “ give a 
dog a bad name and you may hang him. I suppose 
the fact is Moore finds that his fire has attained such 
colossal dimensions that he hastens to get the blame of 
it on some one else’s shoulders. Ah, I thought so ! ” 

He had taken up a later journal. 

“ Great fires at Musselbrook and Jerry’s Plains,” he 
read, glancing at the prominent particulars ; “ fifteen 
houses burnt; five lives lost. The military called out 
to support Captain Moore. Further contingent of po- 
lice sent up to assist in apprehending Salathiel’s gang; 
reward increased to a thousand pounds. Any convict 
furnishing information which will lead to Salathiel’s 
apprehension will receive, in addition to one thousand 
pounds’ reward, a free pardon, and free passage 
home.” 

“What an unlucky beggar he is!” said Sir James 
himself ; “ misfortune seems to dog his steps. His 
prospects seemed most hopeful, and the very door of 
opportunity stood ajar for his escape. And all this 
happens. These fires and Moore’s cursed duplicity will 
enormously increase my difficulty in approaching the 
authorities. Then there is the chance that some con- 
vict may sell him to the police. It’s a big bait. One 
thousand pounds, free pardon, and home! He ought, 
somehow, to be warned at once.” 

There was a sitting-room behind this end of the ve- 
randah, and Sir James went in and rang the bell, which 


THE MILITARY CALLED OUT 253 

stood by the side of an ash-tray and^water-bottle, upon 
a round cedar table. 

It was a singular situation — one of the leading bar- 
risters of the Colony, who often acted as Crown prose- 
cutor, and had not the slightest sympathy with crime or 
criminals, was planning how to keep the most notorious 
outlaw in Australia out of the hands of the police. 

“ Sit down,” said the lawyer to the innkeeper ; “ I 
wish to speak to you privately for a moment,” and Sir 
James looked round the little room, and at a door which 
led into the bedroom he was to occupy. 

“ There’s no one about, Sir James.” 

“Ah! that’s right; what I’m about to say to you is 
quite confidential.” 

The innkeeper, who was a fairly stout and middle- 
aged but athletic man, nodded respectfully. He was 
evidently not a man of many words. 

“ Have you read these papers ? ” asked Sir James. 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Could manage to send them up to him ? ” 

“ I beg your pardon, Sir J ames ; whom do you refer 
to?” 

“ My good man, you know whom I mean. To Sala- 
thiel.” 

“ Ho, sir, I could not. I’m a law-abiding man, and 
not in league with bushrangers.” 

Sir James looked at him long and curiously, and 
then said, “You evidently know your lesson; but you 
cannot deceive me. Living so close as this too ! Aren’t 
you ever visited by some of them ? ” 

“ Often, sir, and I always give them a drink when 
they want it. They have never injured me, nor any of 
my customers ; but I can’t promise to communicate with 


THE OUTLAW 


254 

them. If it is your wish, Sir James, and one of them 
happens to call I’ll give them the papers.” 

Sir James looked at the man; he was annoyed and 
baffled; but it was the attitude of more than half the 
surrounding population in regard to Salathiel. 

Now, the barrister did not wish to commit himself 
to this man, and yet be was determined, if possible, 
that Salathiel should be warned that night. He 
pointed with his finger to the pile of papers and took a 
five-pound note from his pocket book. u Listen ! ” he 
said sternly, “ Last week Salathiel saved my life ; I 
want him to be warned immediately.” 

The man looked at the note, folded it up and — re- 
turned it. “I beg your pardon, Sir J ames,” he said, 
“ but that is not necessary. If, as you say, he saved 
your life, I don’t think you would betray him. He’s 
a white man,” he whispered, u whatever may be said 
about him, and although at the risk of a man’s life, 
those papers shall be in Adullam by to-morrow morn- 
ing; but pardon me, Sir James, they already know that 
the military are up. And, between ourselves, those 
newspaper reports are mostly lies. It was the police 
that fired the forest ! Why, they made no secret of it ! 
Came in here afterwards and told us, and had a drink.” 

By daylight the following morning the travellers 
had started for Patrick’s Plains, but the cautious bar- 
rister said nothing to his companions of what he had 
read in the newspapers. 


CHAPTER XXXII 

SAXA.THIEL RUN TO EARTH 



T O preserve the continuity of this story we must put 
back the clock of time for a few days. It will be 
remembered that Ned Fenton and Dandy Snow left 
the glen by the north entrance on the morning of the 
day of the fire. The avowed purpose of their journey 
should have led them north of the range, hut after they 
had descended to the foot-hills, clear of the belt of fire, 
they rode eastwards .and lit their pipes for a smoke. 
It was evident that each had something on his mind 
that hot morning, but neither seemed to know exactly 
how to broach it. 

“ Are we expected back to-night ? ” asked Dandy, 
after a long silence. 

“ We can please ourselves,” replied Ned evasively. 
“ Let’s toss for it, whether we go back or not,” said 
Dandy. 

“ All right,” replied Ned. 

The two men looked at each other : it was a look that 
said more than either of them would have cared just 
then to put into words, and they rode on for a long time 
in silence. Presently they stopped their horses in the 
midst of a dense jungle of forest, where tree-ferns and 
great creepers filled up the spaces between the boles of 
giant gum-trees. Before them was a tree, perfectly 
hollow and fully three hundred feet high, although 
255 


THE OUTLAW 


256 

some thirty feet of the top had been blown off. It was 
so large that eight of Salathiel’s men, on horseback, 
had once hidden in it. Bunks were fixed on one side, 
and opposite was a rough table and seats. It was a 
forest hiding-place of the bushrangers. The two men 
hung their horses up just inside the entrance. 

“ Now for it,” said Snow, “ heads the Queen, tails 
Salathiel.” 

“ Agreed,” replied Fenton. 

A shilling spun in the air and fell upon the table. 

“ Don’t touch it,” called out Dandy Snow, as it 
seemed likely to roll off the table. It fell close to the 
edge with the Queen’s head uppermost. 

Both men drew a long breath, and then heaved a sigh. 

“ It’s just as well,” said Fenton ; “ we shall save 
our necks and get our freedom at any rate. Whether 
we show him or not, Moore will fire the western forest 
to-night, and in my opinion that will be Captain Jack’s 
last kick. There’s been nothing in it lately,” he con- 
tinued ; “ we must not do this, nor that, and we are get- 
ting as moral as churchwardens. There’s food and 
clothes and money, I’ll allow; but it isn’t bushrang- 
ing.” 

Ever since a disciple betrayed the Saviour, a man’s 
foes have been those of his own household. If Sala- 
thiel had been asked to name those whom he trusted 
most fully, he would assuredly have included Ned Fen- 
ton and Dandy Snow; and yet, regardless of oaths, and 
gratitude, and friendship, they had sold Salathiel a 
week before to the police. Sold him for money and 
their own beggarly lives, and were now, on the toss of 
a coin, going to show Captain Moore, when the signal 
was given, the best place to fire the western forest, and 


SALATHIEL RUN TO EARTH 257 

send floods of flame down on their old haunts and com- 
panions. 

Rut we pass over this miserable story of treachery, 
and push on the clock again to the day following the 
departure of Sir James and his companions. Fenton 
and Snow, learning of the escape of the gang, had again 
joined Salathiel, and Lennox had returned to take 
charge of affairs in the glen again. 

Jack, wholly ignorant of treachery and danger, de- 
termined, before returning to the glen, to visit Kingdon 
Ponds for news and stores. He knew nothing of the 
warnings which had been signalled to the stronghold, 
for the look-out had entrusted the message of danger to 
the traitors, to communicate to Salathiel. Fenton and 
Snow, professing to know the movements of the police, 
suggested that the old track to Kingdon Ponds was 
perfectly safe, although they knew that a large force 
of police and soldiers were waiting there in ambush. 
The whole party rode on, Salathiel in advance, ab- 
sorbed in thought and meditation. He was following 
a faint track, which might have been made by wild cat- 
tle, leading into a rough, narrow gully, where Nature 
seemed to have run wild for centuries. Fleetfoot sud- 
denly started, lifted his head, and half stopped. 
“ What’s the matter, old man ? ” said Salathiel, and 
drawing rein, he stood and listened. 

He could hear nothing unusual; in a tree in front 
of him were a couple of giant kingfishers, a bird com- 
monly known in Australia as the laughing jackass, and 
beyond, under some tree-ferns, on a few yards of glassy 
flat several kangaroos were quietly feeding. 

Salathiel rode on without hesitation, for he con- 
cluded, as would any good Bushman, that no strangers 


THE OUTLAW 


258 

could be near, or the birds and animals would have 
been invisible. He did not know that that very gully 
had been surrounded by silent watchers for two days. 
But the most careful make mistakes sometimes. 

A close observer might have seen Fenton and Snow 
turn pale as Captain Jack drew rein before entering 
the gully. They were riding a little distance behind, 
and a significant glance passed between them as, half 
a minute later, Salathiel rode on and passed leisurely 
down a steep pinch into the gully. The whole of the 
gang followed, and the gully closed around them. 

It was a wild, moist depression, about five hundred 
yards in length, with a creek skirting precipitous rocks 
on the one hand, and a steep ridge on the other. The 
vegetation was dense with bushes; tree-ferns and a tan- 
gled mass of vines hanging between big gum-trees had 
to be avoided, as they wended their way, single file, 
between projecting rocks and great floating boulders, 
occasionally stepping their horses over half-decayed 
trunks of trees. Except for the babbling of the run- 
ning creek and the sough of the south wind in the tops 
of the tall gum-trees, the place was as still as death. 
And yet, at every few yards, on all sides of them, were 
the loaded muskets and rifles of over forty soldiers and 
police. 

They were trapped as completely as if they had rid- 
den into an iron cage. 

Half-way through the gully Salathiel stopped again 
and listened, for Fleetfoot was strangely restless. It 
was not at the gully, for he had been through it before 
scores of times. They all pulled up, and there was 
quietness until the sudden shrill of a whistle was heard, 
followed immediately by the discharge of twenty rifles 


SALATHIEL RUN TO EARTH 259 

all around them. Every second man had fired, as pre- 
viously arranged, in order that the bushrangers might 
know themselves surrounded by an overwhelming force. 

Salathiel wheeled his horse round, confronting Een- 
ton and Snow; one glance at them was enough. He 
had a revolver in his hand. “ Put your hands up,” he 
whispered sternly. u One word above your breath and 
you are dead men! Take their weapons,” he said to 
two men who had ridden up. 16 How tie them to those 
trees facing the ridge. They’re traitors ! Bullets will 
be flying around shortly ; we’ll leave them to be shot by 
their friends.” 

u How, men,” he said calmly, u tether the horses un- 
der those rocks. It’s our own gully, and we could not 
have struck it at a better point for defence. Keep 
under cover right and left of the traitors, and, unless in 
defence, let no one shoot until I give the word.” 

Eor half an hour no sounds, save those of Hature, 
disturbed the silence of the Bush. 

Captain Moore had the gully completely surrounded ; 
but the police and soldiers knew that they had to deal 
with six desperate men who were expert shots, and they 
were in no hurry to begin hostilities. Arrangements 
had been made, if necessary, to hold the gully for a 
week and starve them out ; but there was no telling just 
then exactly what might happen. Having caught them, 
the leaders of the police were holding a council of war, 
and in the meantime the bushrangers kept silent guard 
and waited for Salathiel, who was pacing up and down, 
under cover of a big rock, seeking to evolve some plan 
for their escape. Eenton and Snow had been gagged, 
and warned that if they made the slightest noise to 
attract the attention of the enemy they would be shot 


26 o 


THE OUTLAW 


at once. And so the evening settled down upon them 
all — soldiers, police, and bushrangers. The gang was 
run to earth, but the question was how to get them out 
and handcuff them, without too much loss of life. A 
fox may be hunted, or decoyed into his lair; but it is 
another matter to put your hand in and bring him out. 

The council of war must have proved somewhat bar- 
ren of results, for the soldiers and police decided to 
continue to watch the gully only, and wait for the 
morning. It was a risk; but, said Captain Moore, 
“We have them surrounded; they can’t possibly es- 
cape and I have sent for more help with which to rush 
the gully to-morrow morning.” 

Salathiel in the meantime had come back from his 
council of one, with a dark glance for the traitors, but 
a cheery word for his men. “ We have been trapped 
by treachery,” he said, “ but we are not yet caugbt. 
They evidently won’t risk attacking us to-night, and 
they cannot shoot except at haphazard from the ridges, 
for we are splendidly covered. I have a plan, which 
I’ll tell you of later, but in the meantime we must guard 
each end of the gully carefully. Unless I am much 
mistaken, we shall have help from Adullam before the 
night is over. Kingdon Ponds knows about this, and 
will have signalled to the glen before sunset, and Len- 
nox and others will be hanging around in the morning, 
or perhaps before. The mopoke-cry will be our best 
signal. There are sure to be birds about in a place like 
this; you will know the difference. I find that our 
transport store in the gully has just been replenished 
from Kingdon Ponds, so, as soon as it is dark enough 
to get water from the creek with safety, we’ll boil a 
billy of tea and have supper.” 


SALATHIEL RUN TO EARTH 261 

There was one thing, however, which Salathiel did 
not tell his men until later in the night. All along 
the bottom of the gully blue gums were growing, some 
of them fully 180 feet high. These towered at least 
fifty feet above the ridges occupied by the police and 
troopers. It would of course have been impossible to 
climb them, unobserved, in the daytime, but on a dark 
night such as that which was now fast closing in upon 
them, half a dozen good shots stationed in these trees 
could pick off their opponents with ease. 

Salathiel had determined to climb one of these after 
dark, to see for himself what advantages they offered, 
and whether he could see anything up there to help him 
in his plan of escape. 

Night had no sooner set in than the melancholy call 
of a mopoke sounded in the gully, and was answered 
again and again from the Bush, showing that a number 
of these night-birds were located around. There was 
no sound nor light which could be heard or seen from 
the gully, so water was got up for the tea, and a fire lit 
in an underground trench, where the smoke could be 
smothered; thus by detachments the men were able to 
partake of a substantial meal. 

It was about nine o’clock when Salathiel, with a 
short rifle slung on his back, and tomahawk and re- 
volver in belt, commenced to climb one of the great 
gum-trees. 


CHAPTER XXXIII 


THE CAPTURE OF CAPTAIN MOORE 

A LTHOUGH the gang was trapped and surrounded, 
Salathiel still believed that there was a way of es- 
cape, if only he could hit upon it. “ There is a way 
out of most difficulties,” said the voice which spoke to 
him from within, “ and the failure to see it is the cause 
of most disasters. The way to cheat Moore is as plain 
as the nose on your face ; you see it already with your 
inner consciousness, but you don’t yet perceive it. 
Wake up, Jack! wake up ! ” 

Now it was not very strange that this particular 
gully should have been chosen by Inspector Moore for 
the ambush, for it was the only one thereabouts handy 
to Kingdon Ponds ; nor was it strange that a clever man 
like Salathiel should some time before have chosen it 
as a hiding-place for stores in transit to his stronghold, 
for to keep Adullam supplied with necessities, to say 
nothing of luxuries, without outsiders tracing the paths 
by which they were brought, required considerable 
strategy. A dray road or horse track from the inn to 
the ranges would have been evidence enough to put the 
innkeeper into prison, and, for the matter of that, hang 
him. 

So it may be well to explain here that the secret value 
of this gully to Salathiel lay in the rushing creek which 
tumbled its foaming waters into the gully on the north- 
262 


CAPTURE OF CAPTAIN MOORE 263 

west, and ran noisily along its northern boundary by 
the side of precipitous rocks, grumbling and tumbling 
over a stony bed eastward, until it was lost in a dense 
growth of bushes at its exit. It was this stream which, 
spreading itself out and flowing so peacefully through 
the adjoining hamlet, Sir James had looked upon, as 
he smoked one of SalathiePs cigars on a certain after- 
noon. 

Now, as is commonly the case in Australia, the creek 
was thickly edged with hushes on both banks. Sala- 
thiel had taken advantage of this to blind the track of 
his pack horses from the inn, for the pebbly bottom of 
the watercourse had for some time been used as a road- 
way, along which the bushrangers travelled from an 
ordinary and unsuspicious watering-place for cattle. 
It was natural enough that there should be a beaten 
track from this watering-place to the inn, for a string 
of horses were led down there every day to drink ; hut 
few would have dreamt that, for nearly two miles, the 
high-road for goods to SalathiePs stronghold was by the 
waterway of the creek. Salathiel hoped that the se- 
cret of this waterway had not been revealed to the police 
by the informers. It was indeed quite possible that 
Fenton and Snow had no knowledge of it, for Sala- 
thiePs policy with the gang had been to subdivide, as 
much as possible, work, knowledge, and responsibility, 
and the two informers had not at any time been en- 
gaged in transit of stores in hulk from Kingdon Ponds 
to the gully. 

Salathiel, of course, thought of this waterway as a 
possible means of escape; hut it was sure to be well 
guarded, and unless a diversion could be made at the 
northern end of the gully he feared that there would 


THE OUTLAW 


264 

be no escape without considerable loss of life. Not that 
the police or soldiers were likely to discover the secret 
of the creek themselves, for at the time of this story 
neither soldiers nor police were remarkable for enter- 
prise or sagacity. 

Such were some of the thoughts in Jack’s mind as 
he started to climb a gum-tree which overtopped the 
gully. He did so without shoes, with knotted lengths 
of green hide around the butt, after the fashion of the 
aboriginals. He climbed thus to the first branch, where 
he rested, and listened. Hearing nothing, he climbed 
upward by the branches with less exertion, until he 
was clear of the lower trees, and the whole gully, with 
its surrounding ridges, lay below him. Vision is 
clearer at night from above, and he was soon able to 
make out the forms of his enemies. They were evi- 
dently on the alert, for it was no joke to come to close 
quarters with Salathiel. 

Lying at full length upon a big branch, he noted that 
the two entrances to the gully were very closely guarded, 
and that a couple of men were stationed on each side 
of the cataract down which the creek waters entered. 
A tent had been pitched on the south — two men were 
still at work on it. He guessed that the officers in- 
tended to sleep, eat, and confer there. It seemed that 
they expected the capture to occupy them several days. 

Many of the men were smoking, but guards with 
shouldered arms marched to and fro at regular intervals. 
Others lay on the ground, probably asleep. 

There was no fly over the tent, which contained a 
light, and occasionally the movements of two shadows 
were visible on the wall and roof. 

Listening intently, Salathiel was presently able to 


CAPTURE OF CAPTAIN MOORE 265 

catch fragments of conversation. He heard one soldier 
ask another: 

“ What was that ? ” The two men listened for half 
a minute, and then his fellow replied, “ It’s an owl, 
bed ad ! The gully’s just alive with benighted animals, 
and birds, and bushrangers. When I was doing sentry- 
go last night on the other side of the creek, after the 
major had the bushes cut down for the horses to get 
to water, I saw a big cat with a young kitten sitting 
on its back.” 

u That was a native bear, Michael, my boy,” replied 
the other. 

“ ’Deed, then, it might have been a small bear. I’ve 
heard from my cousin in ’Meriky that they climb trees 
there, and eat honey, but I never heard that they carried 
their cubs on their backs, as they do in this upside- 
down country.” 

The man had been lighting his pipe as he talked, 
and the two then moved away. 

“ So they’ve cut down the bushes on the creek bank 
below the gully,” thought Salathiel. “ Got a special 
guard, no doubt, watching the exit.” 

He proceeded to give his attention to the ridges, for 
there seemed a good deal of movement there. “ Ten 
o’clock,” he whispered to himself ; “ they’re changing 
guard. McFarlane and Moore will walk around now 
and inspect them.” 

It was as Jack surmised, and he lay there for half 
an hour, while the two officers made their tour of in- 
spection. Neither they nor their men seemed over- 
anxious to approach the gully; they little thought, 
however, whose rifle was within easy range of them. 

“ Heavens ! ” muttered Salathiel. “ What a relief 


266 THE OUTLAW 

it would be to the whole Colony to put a bullet through 
him ! ” 

Presently, however, they drew nearer, talking ear- 
nestly, and stood together on the bank opposite Sala- 
thiel’s look-out. He would have given much to catch 
what they were saying; but it was a close, warm night, 
and locusts were chirping in some trees close by, which, 
with the noise of the creek, at first prevented him from 
hearing anything. He felt aggravated enough to do 
something desperate, so he crept out farther on the 
branch and listened intently. Just then the locusts 
stopped. Captain Moore was speaking. 

“ It’s just after ten, major,” he said. “ They ought 
to report themselves soon.” 

“ Report themselves indeed,” thought Salathiel. 
“ He little guesses that the scoundrels are gagged and 
tied to gum-trees.” 

“ Quite sure that you can depend upon them ? ” said 
a gruff voice. 

“ Oh, yes, they’ve gone too far to draw back,” said 
the Inspector. “ If Salathiel finds them out, he’ll no 
doubt hang the pair of them. I wish he would; it 
would stop their talk, and save the reward for better 
people.” 

“ Have they to-night’s password ? ” 

u Yes,” said Moore; u I gave it to them yesterday, 
‘ Maitland West ’ ; but I’ll have to turn in for a couple 
of hours. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. You’ll 
have me called if anything happens ? ” 

At this the two moved on, and separated, and with 
as little delay as possible Salathiel came down the tree. 
“ He had heard enough,” he thought, “ to justify going 
out of the gully to learn more.” The password would 


CAPTURE OF CAPTAIN MOORE 267 

help him, and he might, if necessary, personate Fenton, 
for they were about the same size. 

He had no sooner touched the ground, however, where 
two of his men awaited him, than a hand was reached 
out, and a familiar voice whispered : <c Good evening, 
Captain.” 

It was George Lennox. 

“ I thought you would come,” said Salathiel, grip- 
ping his hand; “ we’re in a tight fix. But how did 
you get in ? ” 

u By way of ‘ Maitland West/ ” said George, laugh- 
ing quietly. 

“ So you know that too!” ejaculated Jack, as he 
drew him away for a private conference. “ Why, I 
have only just discovered the password myself.” 

“ Oh, they’re a lot of blundering new-chums,” replied 
Lennox; “ mostly raw Irishmen just out from Erin. 
I heard it, accidentally, an hour ago.” 

The night was dark and the bush thick, and Lennox 
had been able to creep past the sentries at the cataract 
end of the gully, and had actually come down through 
the plunging waters unseen. After a brief interchange 
of news, he informed Salathiel of the steps he had 
taken with a view to his release. A warning about 
the ambush and the treachery of Fenton and Snow 
had been flashed from Kingdon Ponds the previous 
afternoon, hut too late to be of any use. So Lennox 
had brought all hands down from Adullam, to take 
part in any movement Salathiel might propose. They 
were mounted, and lying in wait a mile away to the 
north-west. 

u We must have no bloodshed,” said Salathiel, “ un- 
less we are absolutely driven to it. I promised that to 


268 


THE OUTLAW 


Sir James. I think, however, that having the password, 
we may risk a walk outside, and see if we can learn 
a bit more of their strength and plans. If we could 
only get quietly out, and leave them here, watching an 
empty gully for a few days, it wouldn’t be a bad 
move.” 

“ Those two traitors must be punished first,” said 
Lennox, with a passionate oath. “ I just overheard 
one of the police say, that but for them, Moore never 
would have fired the western forest when he did. It 
is their treachery that has lost us so many lives.” 

“ How have you arranged with the chaps outside ? ” 
asked Salathiel. 

“ If they hear shots fired in the gully, they are to 
advance at once and begin firing overhead, to make 
a counter-demonstration. If your whistle is blown 
once, they are to retire if attacked; if twice or more, 
they are to close in to our assistance. There are just 
ten of them.” 

“ Why,” exclaimed Salathiel, “ we could defeat them 
easily, but for that promise to Sir James. There are 
only forty soldiers and police.” 

After a whispered communication to one of the men, 
the two passed down the gully, and stepped quietly down 
into the creek ; it was no deeper than their knees, and 
as they moved slowly along through the water, they 
added very little noise to the rippling wash of the 
stream. 

Keeping close to the northern bank, they groped their 
way carefully along, for the overshadowing bushes 
made the darkness intense. But on reaching the clear- 
ing, to their surprise they found themselves near the 
rough fence of an extemporised stock-yard, where they 


CAPTURE OF CAPTAIN MOORE 269 

estimated that some forty horses were feeding. A 
sentry, who had no doubt been on guard at the creek, 
was apparently in conversation with another oil the 
far side of the yard; but the night was so dark, and 
the trees so dense, that the two, with no great difficulty, 
crept on all fours through the undergrowth, until at a 
safe distance. 

“ Listen ! ” whispered Salathiel. “ With such a 
large number of police and soldiers, and the gang bot- 
tled up in the glen, Moore will not be apprehensive of 
danger over in the tent. Let us go and see if any one 
is with him, and what they are doing.” 

They crept stealthily through the undergrowth to 
where the light was still burning in the tent; the flap 
was down, and pausing at the entrance, they heard one 
person only, breathing heavily as in sleep. It was the 
Major’s watch at the gully, and Moore had evidently 
turned in for a few hours, as he said he would. There 
was a tear in the canvas at the back of the tent, which 
Salathiel noiselessly enlarged with his knife, and look- 
ing through, saw within a few feet of him the face 
of the man who had proved his most bitter and un- 
scrupulous enemy. 

Great beads of sweat stood on Salathiel’s face, and 
twice he put his hand to his revolver; he thought of 
the hell of fire in the glen, which this murderer had 
let loose on innocent women and children; he thought 
of the insult to himself, when for some hours he had 
been chained one day with other unfortunate wretches 
to the iron ring in the centre of the stone floor of the 
Maitland lock-up ; he thought of one this man had out- 
raged, and afterwards flogged to death; he thought of 
the insults to his aged father, and He whispered 


THE OUTLAW 


270 

fiercely to Lennox, “ George, I’m going in to bind and 
gag the devil, and carry him into the gully.” 

“ Good ! ” said Lennox, “ I’ll help you. One mo- 
ment,” he whispered as Salathiel turned to go, “ this’ll 
make a good gag.” He knotted his handkerchief 
around a piece of wood he had picked up, and the two 
passed stealthily into the tent. Moore awoke as they 
entered, and recognising Salathiel, his eyes almost 
started from his head. He reached for his revolver; 
but the outlaw was too quick for him, and springing 
forward he struck him with his fist between the eyes. 
The inspector fell back dazed, and before he bad re- 
covered, was gagged and bound hand and foot. 

He had been sleeping on a Bush stretcher, made with 
a couple of sacks run upon saplings, and supported by 
forked sticks driven into the ground. They tied him 
up in the stretcher, wrapped a large rug around him, 
and, extinguishing the light, were about to carry him 
out bodily, when they heard footsteps approaching. 

It was one of the police, who came quietly up and 
stood outside. They heard him say : “ I would have 

sworn that there was a light a few minutes ago.” Lift- 
ing the flap of the tent, little dreaming that a pistol was 
within a few feet of his eyes, he whispered audibly, 
“ Captain ! Captain ! ” 

There was of course no answer, but Lennox drew 
a couple of long breaths, as a sound sleeper, partly 
awakened, might have done, and then started to snore 
gently. 

“ He’s asleep,” said the man ; “ it’s a pity ! I must 
come round again in half an hour ; it’s a chance, with 
the wind in the west, and not a particle of dew.” He 
dropped the tent flap and went off again, Salathiel and 


CAPTURE OF CAPTAIN MOORE 271 

Lennox standing perfectly still as they listened to his 
departing footsteps. 

They had had a narrow escape from a tragedy; but 
what sort of a purgatory Moore must have been in, it 
would be hard to describe ; he lay perfectly still, how- 
ever, without the slightest sound or attempt to struggle, 
for during the whole of the time the cold barrel of 
Salathiel’s revolver was pressed close to his head. 

“ Did you hear that, Moore ? ” said Salathiel, “ ‘ the 
wind is in the west and there is not a particle of dew.’ 
I fancy it would be a kindness to shoot you where you 
are ; but there are some people down in the gully who’ll 
be glad to make your acquaintance, so we’re going to 
carry you there; you’ll wish yourself dead before you 
come out again.” 

He was an ordinary sized man, but the two stalwart 
outlaws lifted the stretcher with ease, keeping under 
the trees, where it was pitch dark. In five minutes 
they were close to the creek, and could hear the noise 
of the horses stamping as they fed. 

“ Put him down,” said Salathiel, dropping his end 
under a tree, “ and I’ll go and see how the land lies, 
and where those new-chum guards have got to. Our 
signal to-night is the mopoke’s cry, so, if you hear it, 
answer me. It’s as dark as Hades, and I might miss 
you, and that would be a pity for Moore’s sake; but 
if anything happens, and I don’t come back, shoot him, 
unless you can carry him in.” 

He was gone before Lennox could reply, and drop- 
ping on the grass the latter put his hands over the 
bonds of his captive, to feel that they were right, and 
then pressed his pistol against the inspector’s forehead 
to remind him that it was there. 


272 


THE OUTLAW 


A long silence followed. 

The sky was clouded, and as there was neither moon 
nor stars, the darkness was complete. The hand held 
a foot from the face would have been invisible; but 
there were a number of audible sounds. 

It is in full daylight only that the silence of the 
Australian Bush is so noticeable. That awful, death- 
like hush passes away with the setting sun, and the 
vast solitudes become peopled with multitudinous 
sounds. The listener hears the movements of things 
that creep and crawl; of animals that hop; and heavy 
wing-birds that fly. The night winds sway the grass 
and reeds until they whisper; the shredded bark hang- 
ing on the trunks of the great gum-trees, flaps weirdly 
in the wind against their butts. Branches pressing 
upon each other will make the strangest sounds ; as 
the wind sways them to and fro, they moan and cry, 
and sometimes even shriek in heavy gales. The fox, 
when hunting, barks as he follows his prey, and the 
dingo howls, night-birds hoot and shriek, and bull-frogs 
croak; and such noises are most frequently heard near 
creeks or waterholes. 

Similar, and other, sounds were borne out of the 
night to Lennox, as he awaited Salathiel’s return. 
Listening, he presently heard a wombat’s grunt among 
the horses at the far end of the extemporised stock- 
yard. The animals pawed the ground restlessly, and 
the wombat grunted again. This was followed by the 
sound of hurried feet and men’s voices, and directly 
afterward Salathiel appeared, and picking up the 
stretcher whispered, “ It’s all right ; I’ve given them 
some trouble with their horses. Come quickly.” A 
few minutes afterwards, they stepped with their burden 


CAPTURE OF CAPTAIN MOORE 273 

into the creek, and turning up stream, were lost in the 
darkness. They moved along very slowly in the in- 
tense gloom; hut, as it became lighter, they stepped 
from the creek to dry ground in the gully, and carried 
their burden to a spot where men with rifles stood by 
the trees on guard. 

“ Anything to report \ 99 whispered Salathiel. 

“ Nothing, Captain.” 

“ That’s good,” said Salathiel. “ Now let me in- 
troduce you to one you may have met with before; if 
not, you will certainly know him by name: Captain 
Moore, Inspector of Police for the Colony of New South 
Wales. Tie him to a tree, he’ll be safer that way than 
lying on the ground; there’s one between Fenton and 
Snow. They know each other quite well.” 


CHAPTEK XXXIV 


DEATH IN THE GULLY 


APTAIH MOOKE was what the convict system 



had made him, a bully and a brute ; but he was no 
coward. One of the last representatives of a revengeful 
administration of criminal law, he was not by any 
means popular with the community; but it would be 
difficult to describe the detestation in which he was held 
by the convict class. Many of these, it should be re- 
membered, were worthy men, who had been transported 
for political or trivial offences; but Moore’s dealings 
with them showed no discrimination or humanity. 
To him they were all jail-birds, to be put down, and 
kept down, and humiliated, and flogged, and reminded 
of their lost condition at every opportunity. 

He would walk or ride through the principal streets 
of Sydney, at all hours of the day, and woe betide the 
convict or emancipist, no matter how respected or 
wealthy, who failed to bare his head as he passed by. 
These people had no civil rights (until their names had 
been inserted in some general pardon under the Great 
Seal of England *). Whether emancipated, assigned, 
or in prison, they belonged to the convict class, which 
was under the brutal authority of the chief inspector. 
They, in return, cordially hated him, and it is not to 

i Lists of hundreds of such names may be read in the news- 
papers of those days. 


274 


275 


DEATH IN THE GULLY 

be wondered at that again and again attempts were 
made upon his life. 

There were, of course, many men in official positions 
of a totally different character and disposition; but 
unfortunately, a laisser faire policy obtained at this 
period, from the Governor downward, and it gave men 
like Moore their opportunity to do incalculable harm 
to the body politic. However, Hemesis had overtaken 
Moore at last. At the very time he planned to destroy 
Salathiel he found himself a prisoner, gagged and 
bound, at Salathiel’s mercy; and he knew the outlaw 
too well to dare to hope. 

While the bushrangers completed their preparations 
for escape, Moore was carefully guarded by two of the 
men. In bygone days he had sentenced one of them to 
five hundred lashes, and they feared and hated him. 
It is little wonder that, in their leader’s absence, they 
seized the opportunity to pour contumely on the head 
of their ancient oppressor. They had none of Sala- 
thiel’s chivalry for a beaten foe. They tweaked his 
nose and pinched liis flesh, and spat into his face and 
cursed, reviled and threatened him in lurid whispers. 

It was two in the morning when the preparations 
were complete. Ho shot had been fired, nor sign made 
from the ridges ; but not for an instant had the vigilance 
of the outlaws been relaxed. They knew that dozens 
of eyes all around the ridges peered through the dark- 
ness into the gully, and that many ears listened to catch 
the faintest sound ; at any moment fire might be opened 
upon them, or a fire-stick put to the dry grass and 
undergrowth which filled the gully. 

About half-past two the prisoners had reason to be 
apprehensive that their end was near, for one by one 


THE OUTLAW 


276 

they were east loose from the trees- and removed higher 
up the gully. There, three stout gums grew close to- 
gether. Moore was bound to the middle one, so that 
he faced the north-west; Fenton and Snow were made 
fast to right and left; then some oil lamps, used for 
traversing the creek at night, were brought and, ready 
for lighting, were firmly fixed over the head of each 
man, loose branches were gathered and heaped around 
them. 

“ Listen ! ” said Salathiel in a loud whisper. “ You 
are all murderers and have forfeited your lives, and 
two of you are traitors. I might justly have hanged 
you; but I prefer to leave you to the upbraiding of 
conscience and the vengeance of God. You fired the 
forest last week to burn me out, but you failed; and 
instead have murdered eleven persons, three of whom 
were women, and seven innocent young children; they 
died of suffocation in a sea of fire; and now, you two 
traitors ! hear from me what the police inspector already 
knows. Unless you should be first shot, the three of 
you are to be burnt alive; burnt alive by Captain 
Moore’s police, at his own orders. It is quite possible, 
of course, that when we light the lamps and begin firing 
from behind, you may be shot by the soldiers, which 
will be the least painful death ; but we shall only shoot 
you ourselves if there seems to be a chance of your 
escape. You may relinquish all hope of life, however, 
and if you know of a God you dare pray to, you had 
better pray to Him with all your hearts. And know 
this, Moore, before you pay the penalty of your crimes. 
The whole of us will escape, and but for a promise 
made Sir James Bennett, few of your men would re- 
turn to Sydney alive. Your murderous plan to destroy 


DEATH IN THE GULLY 277 

11s with fire up at the glen completely failed. Had you 
come up to fight me like a man, I would have met 
you in the same way 5 but your whole career has been 
one of cruelty, deception and blood, and now you will 
die by the hands of your own troopers, caught in your 
own trap.” 

“ Light the lamps ! ” he said, turning round to the 
men, “ and let us see the end of it ! ” 

It was a strange and startling sight to the watchers 
on the ridges when those three lights suddenly shone 
out of the darkness of the gully. The soldiers and 
police could not discern the faces of those who were 
lashed beneath the dazzling gleam, and the bushrangers 
were all under cover. Probably for three minutes 
there was silence, and then the order was given from 
above, to fire. 

A volley of bullets came whistling down into the 
gully, and was immediately replied to by a volley from 
the bushrangers, while almost simultaneously a volley 
was fired from the Adullam contingent on the north- 
west. The latter took the police and soldiers com- 
pletely by surprise, and immediately two policemen 
were to be seen dragging blazing boughs behind them 
across the top of the gully. 

They were firing it from the west ! 

“ Shoot the devils, if you can ! ” cried Salathiel. 

As the bullets hissed around them, both policemen 
ran for their lives and seemed to have escaped unin- 
jured. The grass and dense bushes of the gully leaped 
into flame, and with the westerly behind, in a few 
minutes it came sweeping down before the wind in a 
broad, fantastic sheet of fire. 

“ Give them another volley,” said Salathiel. 


THE OUTLAW 


278 

They fired, sheltered by the trees, directly behind 
their prisoners. A hail of bullets was the reply of the 
ridges, and Moore was shot in the shoulder, while 
Fenton and Snow, who were completely exposed, re- 
ceived their death warrants. 

Another storm of bullets swept the gully, and Sala- 
thiel saw Moore’s head fall forward. 

“ The fire will do the rest,” he said, as word was 
given to the gang to make for the creek. 

Just then a sharp rattle of rifles was heard from the 
outlaws in the west, but much nearer. 

“ Now’s your time ! ” cried Salathiel, and at the 
word, rifle in hand, Lennox stepped into the creek lead- 
ing his horse; the others followed, and Salathiel, turn- 
ing his head to give a last look at the blazing gully, 
brought up the rear. “ They are all three done for,” 
he thought. 

Lennox had expected to find the outlet of the creek 
closely guarded ; but the sudden attack by the unknown 
force on the north-west and the disappearance of Cap- 
tain Moore had evidently disorganised both police and 
soldiers. 

The bushrangers, on stepping out of the creek, really 
met with no resistance. The men guarding the horses, 
after firing their guns, ran off to join their comrades. 

Sharp knives made short work of halters, and with 
rails thrown down, guns firing, and the Bush blazing, 
the terrified horses stampeded westward — the mounted 
outlaws behind them — at a pace that would carry them 
miles into the unoccupied country. 

“ Well done ! ” cried Salathiel. “ Keep well to the 
right, and join the others.” This was soon accom- 


DEATH IN THE GULLY 279 

plished, for sweeping around in a half-circle, they 
quickly reached their fellows, and together opened fire 
upon police and soldiers. “ Eire high ! ” shouted Sa- 
lathiel. “ Don’t kill any of them unless in self- 
defence.” 

But some were already wounded — among them the 
major — and without leaders the wavering soldiers had 
little relish for the fight. They had no knowledge of 
the strength of the unknown force which was firing 
upon them from broken country to the west, and as the 
word went around that Salathiel and his gang had 
escaped from the gully, and was being strongly rein- 
forced, a panic-stricken rush was made for the horses. 
On finding them gone, the excitement and alarm were 
intensified, and panic-stricken, they forsook their 
wounded, including the major, and fled madly through 
the Bush in the direction of Kingdon Ponds. 

But it did not suit Salathiel to let them rendezvous 
there, so some of the bushrangers hung loosely upon 
their rear, firing occasionally until they were some 
miles south. 

In the meantime, the Bush fire, started by the police, 
was reddening the sky and assuming wide dimensions. 
It had swept the gully, and the charred remains of 
three blackened corpses was all that was left of the 
two informers and Captain Moore. 

Morning found the outlaws searching the western 1 
Bush for any who might be dead or injured. They 
found the major and a couple of wounded soldiers, who 
were carried on litters to the inn at Kingdon Ponds. 
Lennox, who had considerable surgical skill, attended 
as well as he could to their injuries. He thought there 
was no immediate danger, but arranged for a doctor to 


28 o 


THE OUTLAW 


be summoned from Patrick’s Plains. The gang then 
returned to the glen, assured that there was little pres- 
ent likelihood of any further attack being made upon 
them. 

Salathiel regretted the whole episode, for he feared 
that it would nullify the efforts of Sir James Bennett 
on his behalf, and cause a louder outcry to be raised 
against him. He might plead that he had shown the 
greatest forbearance during the whole of this tragic 
occurrence, and had not been the aggressor; but who 
would believe the word of an outlaw against that of the 
police? The deaths of Fenton, Snow, and Captain 
Moore would in themselves be sufficient to bring the 
whole gang to the gallows. 

But the morning of a new day was dawning for 
Australia, and for Salathiel too, although, as one of 
the chief actors in the play, it was not so easy for him 
to see it as for those farther away from the footlights. 


CHAPTER XXXV 


A COLONIAL CURRENCY LASS 

T HE forget-me-not type of girl, whose idea of love 
and a lover is centred in herself, is common 
enough in these days, and was not unknown at the time 
of our story. How such an one would have fretted 
during those weeks of waiting at Morpeth ! But Betsy 
was of another type altogether. Her love for Salathiel 
partook of that sweet, womanly affection which is self- 
forgetful, and seeks its supreme happiness in another’s 
good; whose unselfishness has, again and again, made 
men of common clay heroes, and transformed heroes 
into gods. 

It was no petulant, impatient, up-to-date girl that 
awaited Jack at Morpeth; but a native-born currency 
lass, who would be found ready to do and dare when 
the time came for action, but would also wait patiently 
until the door of opportunity swung ajar. Betsy’s 
aunt, like her mother, was married to a farmer, and no 
sooner had Amos and her brother started north than 
Betsy offered to help with the work. 

“ But you’re a visitor, Betsy,” expostulated Mrs. 
Dawson, who had just come in from the dairy. 

“ I shall be better in health and happier, aunt,” re- 
plied Betsy, “ if I know that I am of some use to you. 
I shall still have time to read and keep up my school- 
work, and ride half a dozen miles to keep myself fit; 
281 


282 


THE OUTLAW 


but you must let me help you in the dairy, for I can 
do everything there, and make beautiful butter.” 

So Betsy had her way, and won the respect and love 
of her uncle, and the three boy and two girl cousins she 
found at Morpeth, These days of waiting were filled 
with healthy occupation and cheered with kindly 
thought for others, and Betsy, instead of fretting herself 
thin and making her aunt’s household miserable, grew 
in favour with her friends, and in self-control and 
sweetness of disposition. At the same time she kept 
herself in rosy health and fit for any exertion or sud- 
den call that might be made upon her. 

Betsy’s uncle, who w r as well known as Sam Dawson 
throughout the district, bred some good horses, and 
soon discovered that Betsy was a fearless horsewoman, 
so, almost daily, she would ride upon some errand into 
Maitland, sometimes with one of her cousins, but more 
often alone. One day she took a newly broken colt 
along the Patterson-road, and another day she visited 
Anvil Creek. What rides they were! Bunyip, the 
mastiff, who had surrendered at discretion to Betsy’s 
charms, mostly went with her, and many a head was 
turned to look after the handsome south-coast girl with 
the big dog, who rode so well, and smiled so pleasantly 
to all who passed her on the road. A queen could not 
have been treated more graciously. It must have been 
that Betsy had the making of a queen in her, for some 
rare women are endowed at birth with queenly graces, 
and neither print frocks, nor rough surroundings, nor 
hard work, can wholly rob them of their priceless heri- 
tage. 

When word came of Sir James’s disappearance, and 
of the destructive fires blamed on Salathiel, and the at- 


A COLONIAL CURRENCY LASS 283 

tempt of the police to capture him, Betsy felt that sick- 
ening sense of apprehension most of us are familiar 
with,, but her confidence in Salathiel remained un- 
shaken. 

“ You will find,” she said, “that if Sir James falls 
into Salathiel’s hands he will be kind to him, and if 
Captain Moore attempts to fight him in the ranges, he 
will be beaten ; I feel confident that my old schoolmas- 
ter never fired the forest.” 

When she read later, in the paper, that the military 
were being sent up to assist in her lover’s capture, al- 
though she said little, the shadow of a great fear over- 
pressed her; but her uncle, who guessed her thoughts, 
and by the way admired her greatly, offered to take her 
with him to Singleton, where he had business. 

“We may hear some news of your brother and Mr. 
Gordon,” he said. 

So, next day, Betsy rode with Sam Dawson to Pat- 
rick’s Plains, as Singleton was then called. It was 
nearly thirty miles, but they rode good horses, and ex- 
pected to be back before dark. Those who know what 
a sixty-mile ride on an Australian country road is will 
guess that it was not for naught that Betsy had brought 
her own side-saddle and kept herself fit. 

There are some people to whom it is second nature 
to forecast contingencies. Probably the reader knows 
already that Betsy could do more than most girls, be- 
cause her thoughts were always a little in advance of 
hands and feet. She took after her mother, who always 
knew where the matches were, and never had to hunt 
about for needle and thread, which may explain some 
unexpected occurrences in the present chapter, for 
Betsy little thought, as she rode in the early morning 


284 THE OUTLAW 

out of pleasant Morpeth, that she would never see the 
place again. 

“ Isn’t this glorious ! ” she exclaimed, pulling her 
horse into a walk as they mounted the hill. The road 
had wound around, bringing the valley and town into 
view again. The river flashed in the morning sun; 
great herds of lazy bullocks fed in the fat pastures; 
birds chirped and jackasses laughed in trees and 
bushes, and timorous animals, at their approach, raced 
off into the undergrowth. The morning air was sweet 
and balmy with the breath of gum-trees, their leaves 
and branches still sparkling with dew. Every one 
they met smiled at Betsy, and said “ Good morning,” 
and Betsy and her uncle, who was not a little proud of 
his niece, smiled, and said “ Good morning ” too. 

Oh, for the days of youth, in sunny New South 
Wales, when the blood flows through the pplsing veins 
like wine, and a girl is young, and has health and 
beauty and a heart disciplined by trouble, but not 
bowed down! Oh, for the days of youth, in a great, 
free, pleasant land, with an open mind and a new 
world to explore and revel in and enjoy! Oh, for the 
days of youth and love, when the whole world smiles on 
a beautiful face, and says “ Good morning ! ” 

Betsy was radiant, for she refused to meet trouble 
half way, and rode along laughing and talking to her 
uncle. They passed an old farmer, near Anvil Creek, 
driving a dray. Betsy had smiled at him as he ac- 
costed her uncle, and when they had passed he stopped 
his cart to look after her. 

“ God bless the girl ! ” he said. “ What eyes, and 
what a voice, and what a seat in the saddle, and what a 
laugh; she’ll make a gran’ wife for somebody! Get 


A COLONIAL CURRENCY LASS 285 

up, Blossom.” And the kind old man drove on. Bet- 
sy’s fair young face had cheered his old heart, and he 
began to whistle a half-forgotten love song that he used 
to sing when he was young. 

But the horses had got their first wind by this time, 
and after breakfasting at Anvil Creek, they pushed 
along, and Betsy and her uncle were riding into Pat- 
rick’s Plains township some time before noon. One of 
the first persons they met in the main street was Bob 
Carey. 

u Why, Bob ! ” exclaimed Betsy in genuine surprise. 
“ I am glad to see you ; where have you come from ? 
My word, how thin you are ! ” 

“ My goodness., Betsy ! I can’t tell you how pleased 
I am to see you, and you too, uncle,” replied Bob, over- 
come with pleasure and astonishment. “ We are stop- 
ping at the hotel; been here three days,” he continued, 
“ had a terrible time in the fires, and Father Gordon has 
been ill with anxiety, and knocked up with the rough 
travelling ; it’s a wonder we are alive ! ” 

It transpired that Sir James Bennett had that day 
gone on to Sydney via Maitland. He had called in the 
local doctor to see Amos. The old man’s heart, he said, 
was affected; he must be very careful, and take a few 
days’ rest ; he imagined that his patient had suffered a 
severe shock quite recently. 

Betsy was indeed shocked when she saw her old 
friend ; he looked aged by ten years or more. 

“ You want good nursing, Father Gordon,” she said, 
smiling, u and I expect I’ll have to stop here and look 
after you ; whatever would mother say to see you so ! ” 
It did Amos more good than all the doctor’s advice 
and medicine to have Betsy’s pleasant face around ; but 


286 


THE OUTLAW 


there was a weight on all their hearts, for Dame Ru- 
mour had it that Salathiel and the whole of his Adul- 
lam brotherhood were prisoners in the hands of the 
police and soldiers; and that they would be brought 
down on the morrow in chains. Bob had heard that 
they would stay the night a.t Patrick’s Plains, and 
every hotel in the township expected to be full. Need- 
less to say, the place was simpering with excitement; 
yet not a few refused to believe these rumours about 
Captain Jack, who, if the truth was told, was more 
popular with the townspeople than either the military 
or the polica 

Betsy, as usual, refused to credit ill-tidings of her 
hero, and so the afternoon passed, and Sam Dawson, 
having completed his business, came back for tea. 

They were sitting talking, later in the evening, when 
an unusual clatter of horses was heard. “ What’s 
that ? ” exclaimed Sam Dawson, hurrying out on to the 
verandah, closely followed by Bob and Betsy, whose 
heart beat violently. 

It was a small body of mounted infantry, and al- 
though they trotted bravely into the town, they looked 
decidedly crestfallen ; but the news they brought stirred 
the whole place with excitement Salathiel had es- 
caped from the ambush; Major McFarlane was 
wounded, and Captain Moore was dead, while both mil- 
itary and police were totally routed out of the ranges; 
they had lost their horses ; there was no end to the story 
of their sufferings and loss; the audacious outlaw of 
the hills had completely out-generalled them. There 
was much running about after this; for spare horses 
had to be sent up to meet the remaining police and 
soldiers, who were coming down on foot, and lights 


A COLONIAL CURRENCY LASS 287 

flashed in the excited township until midnight, as the 
story of Salathiel’s victory was told, and retold again. 
Betsy found it hard that night to get to sleep, but the 
surprising thing, said Sam Dawson, was that no one 
seemed to fear that Salathiel would retaliate upon 
either soldiers, police, or townspeople. 

After midnight, a mounted messenger came in for 
the doctor. He said that Major McFarlane was worse, 
and one of the soldiers very bad. Dr. Thompson had 
only come in after a thirty miles’ ride, hut with a fresh 
horse he was on his way, two hours afterwards, to King- 
don Ponds — a ride of about forty miles. His wife 
was to try by some means, in the morning, to find a 
suitable nurse to follow him. But alas, when the 
morning came it seemed as though no capable nurse 
could be obtained! It was the talk of the little town- 
ship — the need of a nurse to attend those wounded 
soldiers at Kingdon Ponds. Father Gordon looked 
hard at Betsy ; he was feeling much better, and thought 
that if they rode quietly he might return with Sam 
Dawson the following morning, to Morpeth. 

“Uncle!” said Betsy suddenly; “don’t you think 
I might go to Kingdon Ponds and nurse those 
wounded soldiers ? Bob could come with me. You 
know I am a good nurse, mother taught me, and the 
messenger says that Major McFarlane may die if he is 
not well looked after at once. It would make things 
worse for Captain Jack — would it not, uncle, if he 
died ? ” 

There was a tremour in her voice ; and Sam Dawson 
looked long and anxiously at his niece before he an- 
swered. It was a chance, perhaps, of serving Sala- 
thiel; and if Betsy nursed the major back to life and 


288 


THE OUTLAW 


health, she might make him her friend, and he was a 
man of influence in the Colony. 

All this, and more, had been passing through Betsy’s 
mind, and by some thought transference, her concep- 
tion of it as a fortunate opportunity presented itself in 
a hazy way to her uncle; and he, like the good fellow 
he was, determined to help her to its accomplishment. 

Bob was quite willing, both for his sister and Sala- 
thiel’s sake, to co-operate, and so it came about by noon 
that day the whole matter had been arranged with Mrs. 
Thompson to their mutual satisfaction. Betsy was en- 
gaged to go to Ivingdon Ponds as nurse to the wounded 
soldiers, and without further delay, she and her brother 
started on their journey. It was a good road, and 
Kingdon Ponds was reached the same evening, with- 
out either mishap or adventure. 


CHAPTER XXXVI 

MAJOR MO FARLANE 


T HUS it came about that Betsy entered upon the 
new and untried avocation of nursing, just as she 
had taken up the role of school-mistress, for the sake 
of the man she had vowed to help and defend and fight 
for and encompass with her love. But to nurse a num- 
ber of rough soldiers at a wayside inn was very dif- 
ferent to the nursing she had done occasionally at home. 
And, brave girl as she was, it was with difficulty many 
a time at the start that she kept back her tears. 

The doctor read his wife’s note, looked the girl up 
and down, and bluntly told her that he had expected an 
older woman ; it was not fit work, he said, for a young 
girl to nurse a lot of swearing soldiers. The innkeep- 
er’s wife would be more suitable, and no doubt more 
reliable; she was of no use to him, and the best thing 
she could do would be to have a night’s rest, and then 
ride back with her brother to Patrick’s Plains. 

He was a good doctor, but of the rough old army 
school, and just then he was worried. His idea of a 
nurse was an elderly wonjan slightly addicted to gin. 
He was turning to leave the sitting-room, as though 
the matter was ended, when Betsy drew herself up and 
somewhat indignantly replied : “ Dr. Thompson, your 

wife has engaged me as nurse, and I have ridden forty 
miles to come here. I’m not going to be sent off in 
289 


THE OUTLAW 


290 

that fashion. You think, because I look young, that I 
am inexperienced and thoughtless; and you have not 
even given me a trial. My age is nothing. What do 
you know of my ability as a nurse, or of my experi- 
ence? Mrs. Morrison tells me that she is worn out 
with the work and the nursing, and I’m going to help 
her, and to sit up with Major McFarlane to-night, after 
I have changed my riding-habit, and had some tea and 
a couple of hours’ sleep.” 

As red as a rose, and with the air of a tragedy queen, 
Betsy confronted the amazed doctor. Muttering some- 
thing about the wilfulness of Australian currency 
lasses, he left her to attend to Major McFarlane, who 
was swearing at Mrs. Morrison in an adjoining room. 

Before morning, however, Dr, Thompson had capitu- 
lated, and acknowledged to the innkeeper, Pat Morri- 
son, that, wherever she had picked it up, Betsy knew 
how to handle a bandage, and was not without some 
homely skill and aptitude. In a clean print dress, with 
white collar, cuffs, and apron, she was a pleasant con- 
trast to Mrs. Morrison and the average elderly nurse. 
Betsy had a pleasant but imperious way of managing 
people; by ten o’clock she had told Bob that it was all 
right, and that he might go to bed; and by midnight 
Mrs. Morrison had dropped into the background, and 
the doctor found himself giving directions to Betsy as 
to medicines and treatment, before he snatched a few 
hours’ sleep himself. 

“ Do you know how to take a temperature ? ” he 
asked. 

“ I think so,” said Betsy, who had been watching the 
doctor closely; “you put the glass bulb of the ther- 


MAJOR MCFARLANE 


291 

mometer under the armpit for five minutes ; the major 
is too restless to have it under his tongue.” 

“ Yes, that’s right,” said the doctor, somewhat sur- 
prised, though friendly. “ Take the major’s tem- 
perature carefully at about two o’clock, and if it is 
over 102 call me at once.” 

“ I’ll he very careful, doctor ; but will you not lie 
down at once ? You must be quite knocked up. I’ve 
had two hours’ sleep, and feel as fresh as a daisy.” 

There was a small clock ticking loudly on the mantel- 
piece. Betsy thought it might irritate her patient, so 
she carried it into the sitting-room. After arranging 
medicines., and tidying things up generally, she sat 
down and watched the officer, who tossed restlessly in 
his sleep. It was after midnight, and save for the heavy 
breathing of a sleeper in the next room, all was still, 
and Betsy was nursedn-charge of three patients, two of 
whom were dangerously ill. 

Major McFarlane was a Scotchman, hailing from 
Glasgow. It was touch-and-go with him, as the doctor 
had said, for one bullet had grazed the left lung and 
another had smashed his shoulder blade. At two 
o’clock the doctor had to be called, for acute inflam- 
mation had set in, and the temperature was dangerously 
high. He was delirious, and in his ravings frequently 
mentioned Salathiel and Captain Moore. 

The doctor looked at Betsy once or twice, to note 
the effect of the major’s words upon her; but, although 
her heart beat fast, she made no sign. Salathiel might 
have been an utter stranger to her. 

“ We’ll take them alive, Moore,” called out the major 
sternly, “ and understand that I won’t have any firing 


THE OUTLAW 


292 

of the Bush. It's white men we are fighting, not blacks, 
or savages, or even common bushrangers. Captain 
Jack is a gentleman, and I would wish for nothing 
better than to meet him myself, with swords or pistols. 
I’m sorry we can’t help him to clear out of this hateful 
country; he’s a man, and worthy of a better fate than 
hanging. If he had only worn a Government uniform, 
almost every blessed thing he has done would have been 
right. 

“ What’s that you say? He fired the -forest in the 
ranges? I don’t believe it; that was some of your 
devilish work. Oh, I know you, Moore ! He’s 
proved more than a match for you, and you would re- 
sort to any villainous trick to take him, dead or alive. 
Play the game, sir! We are Englishmen, don’t you 
know; and he is more English-like in his actions than 
most of your banditti crowd — if he is a Jew.” 

The doctor was puzzled to note Betsy’s proud look as 
she listened to the ravings of the soldier. Her heart 
went out to this man. It was worth while saving him ! 
If not a friend, he was no embittered foe, as Captain 
Moore had been. So she nursed him with untiring de- 
votion, for the sake of Jack, little dreaming of the 
effect her presence and skill would have upon her pa- 
tient’s mind and heart. 

Patrick’s Plains was a one-doctor township; and 
there were other urgent cases which called the doctor 
away, so Betsy had an opportunity to show her skill 
and resource, and make for herself new friends, and 
gain new experience. Ho ice was available, few medi- 
cines, and not much suitable food; so Bob rode back 
with the doctor to Patrick’s Plains for a number of 
necessaries. He came back promptly, knowing what 


MAJOR MC FARLANE 293 

an anxious time it was for Betsy ; for during those days, 
while her other patients were slowly recovering, Major 
McFarlane lay between life and death. 

Betsy was now not more than twenty miles from Sa- 
lathiel’s stronghold, and her thoughts were often there; 
hut she had not as yet heard any mention of him by 
the innkeeper or by his wife, and she feared to ask 
questions. How well Salathiel’s interests were safe- 
guarded by his friends is shown by the fact that Betsy 
was nursing for a week, without any idea of the busi- 
ness connection of the inn with Salathiel and his strong- 
hold. The innkeeper, Patrick Morrison, was an ex- 
emplary host, and in a rough, homely way, he and his 
wife did all that they could for both Betsy and her 
patients; but no word of the adjacent stronghold, or 
of him whose word was law in that region, passed his 
lips. 

One day, however, when Major McFarlane had suf- 
fered a relapse, and Betsy was beside herself with anx- 
iety and apprehension, for the very symptoms which 
the doctor had warned her against were prominent, 
Morrison whispered to her that there was a doctor up 
at Adullam, and he had sent for him to come down 
at once. 

“ I am so glad, Mr. Morrison,” said Betsy ; “ it 
would never do for the major to die now. He was 
getting on so well, and I should think it was through 
some neglect on my part.” 

“ I have a message,” replied the innkeeper, “ that 
the doctor will be here to-night by nine o’clock.” 

The weary hours passed slowly; and with many a 
prayer for help, Betsy, assisted by Mrs. Morrison, 
waited upon her patient, although more than once they 


THE OUTLAW 


294 

had to call in her brother and the innkeeper to hold him 
down upon the bed. It was during one of those painful 
paroxysms that the door gently opened, and Salathiel 
appeared. 

One squeeze of Betsy’s hand, one look into her eyes, 
brimming with tears yet luminous with joy, and he 
stepped beside the bed. Nothing was said, for Mor- 
rison and his wife knew very well who the Adullam 
doctor was, and Bob was too overawed by the situation 
to be surprised at anything. 

“ Bring another pillow and put it under his head,” 
said Salathiel to Betsy, and taking a small leather case 
from his pocket, he extracted from it a phial, and 
poured a few drops of a bluish liquid into a wineglass 
full of water. With difficulty the soldier was made 
to swallow it; but its effect was very soon apparent. 
The tense muscles slowly relaxed, and the patient’s 
head sank back upon the pillow. Watch in hand, Sa- 
lathiel felt his pulse and then counted the respirations, 
and in another half-hour beads of perspiration stood 
upon the man’s face. The crisis was passed. 

“ I was only just in time,” said Salathiel. “ He’ll 
not die; but it will be some days before he recovers. 
That is a wonderful medicine. He’ll sleep now for 
some hours. He’s had a bad relapse; the poor fellow’s 
strength is quite exhausted. Bob, you go and get 
another sleep; and Miss Carey, come on the verandah 
a moment, please, and have a look at Eleetfoot.” 

The dawn was just flooding the eastern sky with 
golden light, .when Jack led Betsy on to the verandah. 
There was no one near, save Eleetfoot, who whinnied 
a pleasant greeting to his master. 

“ Betsy,” said Jack — and he looked long and lov- 


MAJOR MC FARLANE 


295 

ingly into her face — “ you are a wonderful woman, 
to think of all that you have done and suffered for my 
sake; and you are more beautiful than ever; and to 
think that you have done it all for a bushranger and 

an outlaw ! ” And with that, he pressed her to his 

heart, and kissed her. 

Betsy had intended to call him Mr. Bennett, but 
all that she could say was: “ Oh, Jack! How I wish 
that you were out of Australia, away from all this — 
and free ! ” 

“ It’s coming, Betsy,” said Jack. “ I have a letter 
in my pocket, which I want to read to you. It’s from 
Captain Fraser, of the Nancy Lee . Listen ! — 

** ‘ Dear Sir: 

“ 6 1 have arranged everything with friends in Syd- 
ney. Next month is thought to be an appropriate time 
for a voyage eastward. The Nancy Lee , with a full 
cargo, will be lying in Newcastle harbour at the full of 
the moon. Kindly keep this secret, and make your 
arrangements as early as possible, and oblige, 
u 6 Your obedient servant, 

“ ‘ Donali> Fraser.’ 

“ Betsy,” he continued, “ I too have arranged every- 
thing. Your people consent, and Parson McEwan will 
marry us at midnight, before we sail. Will you 
come ? ” 

Betsy did what many a woman had done before, and 
will do again, took the man she loved on trust, and 
promised, “ for better or worse.” 

For several hours they watched together by the bed- 
side of the major, Jack describing to Betsy the probable 


THE OUTLAW 


296 

after-symptoms, and what to do. They had breakfast 
together with Bob. Fleetfoot was brought round, and 
riding south this time, Jack was gone. 

“ Is he not afraid ? ” said Bob to Betsy and Morrison, 
as they stood together watching him as he rode across 
the creek and disappeared. 

“ No,” said the innkeeper, “ he knows how to take 
care of himself; but just now he has no cause to be 
afraid.” 

A week later the major was out of all danger, and 
one morning Betsy’s cool hand was laid upon her 
patient’s forehead. “ I’m going to give you a grilled 
chop for lunch to-day,” she said ; “ it’s wonderful how 
quickly you Scotchmen recover once you get the turn; 
you will soon be able to do without a nurse.” 

“ I wish I could always have you near me,” said the 
major wearily; “ but for you I should have been under 
ground by this. You have made me your debtor, nurse, 
beyond all my power to repay.” 

“ Would you do something to help me, if I wanted 
your assistance very badly, Major?” Betsy was look- 
ing into his face as though she would read his very 
soul. 

“ Betsy,” said the major bluntly, for the first time 
calling her by her Christian name, “ I would serve you 
with my life ! ” 

“Ah! you are not strong yet, Major; people some- 
times say rash things when they are recovering from 
a bad turn. You will forget me after a bit.” 

“ It’s the word of a soldier,” replied McFarlane. 
“ I can’t say more now ; but wait until I am well. 
You have made me your friend for life.” 

“Major, I’ll believe you,” said Betsy, surprised at 


MAJOR MC FARLANE 297 

his earnestness. “ My father was once a soldier, and 
I have heard him say that a good soldier is always as 
good as his word.” 

Their eyes met, and there was that in the major’s 
honest face which satisfied Betsy that he would not 
break his word with her, even though her request en- 
tailed unlooked-for difficulty. 

In the meantime, stirring events were taking place 
in Sydney, whither Sir James Bennett had now ar- 
rived : events which singularly favoured Salathiel’s 
escape, if they could only be made known to him in 
time to be taken advantage of. 

Captain Fraser’s letter had stirred him to strenuous 
action, for much had to be done for the people in the 
glen before he could think of himself and his own safety 
and happiness. 


CHAPTER XXXVII 


THEi BANDITTI PARTY 

S IR JAMES BENNETT, with the bluff skipper of 
the Newcastle steam packet, stood upon the incom- 
ing steamer’s bridge. The vessel was sweeping through 
a calm sea around North Point and the quarantine 
ground. 

“ Hast ever made Sydney Harbour before, with the 
sun setting, Sir J ames ? ” 

“ I can’t say that I have,” replied the lawyer. 

“ Then you’ll see as pretty a sight in a few minutes 
as any on earth,” said the captain, and the old seaman 
marched to the other end of the bridge, humming to 
himself : 

“ Oh Bay of Dublin, me thoughts you’re troubling. 

Your beauty haunts me like a fevered dream.” 

Coming back again, as the steamer rounded North 
Head, he exclaimed : “ I’ve been in and out of Port 

J ackson hundreds of times ; but on an evening like this 
I always feel a kind of mental intoxication as the 
harbour opens up. Look at it! Isn’t it a picture? 
It’s the one blessed harbour for me in the whole world, 
and I’ve seen ’Erisco, Naples, and Dublin. But it 
beats ’em all.” 

It was a perfect evening in late summer, after a 
day of heavy rain, and Nature, like some blushing 
298 


THE BANDITTI PARTY 


299 

rustic beauty conscious of her loveliness, stood breath- 
less, as it were, to be admired. The steamer had slowed 
down, and was passing smoothly through the softly lap- 
ping shimmering waters of Sydney Harbour, which, 
with the lustrous foliage of its picturesque environ- 
ment, was ruddy with the sunset-glow. 

“ What a land it is,” said the lawyer, speaking as 
much to himself as to the captain ; “ but alas ! that all 
this beauty and repose should have so little influence 
upon the character and disposition of the people and 
their rulers ; but it will come — it must come.” 

The captain overheard this and smiled, but he was 
occupied just then with his navigation, or he would 
probably have had something further to say. 

They passed Middle Harbour and Bradley’s Head 
all too quickly for the barrister, who revelled in the 
beautiful scene. Then came Rose and Double Bays 
and Garden Island. Quite a fleet of vessels lay peace- 
fully at anchor, among them no less than five immigrant 
ships, and one full-rigged ship of a thousand tons, car- 
rying convicts. “ Hello ! ” cried the captain as they 
neared Barm Gove. “ They’ve moved the warship op- 
posite the quay ; what’s that for, I wonder ? ” As they 
slowly rounded Man-o’-War steps and the quay opened 
out, Circular Wharf, at the foot of George-street, was 
seen to be crowded with people. 

“ I’m blest if they haven’t got the guns trained on to 
the crowd!” ejaculated the astonished captain, as he 
gave orders to stop the engines. 

“ Whatever can have happened ? ” exclaimed the bar- 
rister. 

“ I heard in Newcastle,” said the captain grimly, 
“ that there was going to be another meeting of the 


THE OUTLAW 


300 

Anti-transportation League to-day, and it looks as 
though the Governor and the Banditti Party were go- 
ing to give ’em fits.” 

Sir James felt anxious and uncomfortable, for the 
Banditti Party, so called, included the Governor, 
Council, Military, and Police, and also some of the 
squatters, and it was the political party of Sir James; 
but the film of class prejudice was fast falling from the 
latter’s eyes. Recent experiences had wonderfully 
changed his vision of Australian life, for until his meet- 
ing with Salathiel the barrister had lived in a wholly 
conservative and official atmosphere, hand-in-glove with 
those who were in power. But although scarcely aware 
of it as yet, he was fast becoming a convert to the new 
order of things, and his vision of Australia and its 
future was broadening and deepening. Even in 1850 
the old order saw nothing more than a penal settlement 
in Australia, to be ruled by soldiers and policemen, 
and a Parliament on the other side of the globe; but 
the new order beheld a very different picture, both of 
the present and future, and chafed under the arbitrary 
rule of pedantic officials, who would on occasion insult, 
and even flog, free citizens, as well as convicts, without 
the form of a trial, and who, when the people dared 
to hold a public meeting to protest against official 
brutality, would often ride into the crowd and disperse 
them with blows; or, as in the present instance, train 
the guns of a warship upon them. 

Nor had there been much opportunity of appeal of 
late years, for the Governor lived in luxury and ease, 
and, like Gallio, cared for none of these things. He 
set at naught complaints, and in his dispatches mis- 
represented the people’s party to the Home Govern- 


THE BANDITTI PARTY 301 

ment, as “ a few idle grumblers who have no stake or 
interest in the community.” It was seemingly not a 
very opportune time for the barrister to approach the 
authorities with a proposal in favour of Salathiel’s be- 
ing allowed to quit the country; but, “on the other 
hand, he thought, “ if Salathiel would only continue 
to act on the defensive, and use his men and influence 
for the maintenance of law and order in the northern 
district, there would be a chance that his prowess and 
defiance of the authorities might make him a popular 
idol with the multitude (as Robin Hood was at one 
time in England), illustrating to the minds of thou- 
sands of free men, not only an outlaw’s war against 
injustice and tyranny; but the war of the people them- 
selves against the cast-iron rule of a brutal and blunder- 
ing officialism.” 

When Sir James got on shore he found the city 
greatly excited, and seemingly on the verge of a popular 
revolutionary demonstration against the Government. 
Captain Moore’s expedition to capture Salathiel, the 
forest fires, and all else outside of Sydney, was lost 
sight of in the commotion of the hour. Double guards 
of soldiers were on duty at Government House, and, 
as has already been seen, the guns of a British warship 
were trained upon the old barrack square, where crowds 
were passing indignant resolutions against the revival 
of convict transportation and the continuance of the 
convict system of assignment. All of which was 
embittered and aggravated by the fact that Government 
military and police were openly in favour of continuing 
the existing system, and had even petitioned the Home 
Government in favour of convict transportation. 

It was, in colonial phraseology, the “ Currency ” 


THE OUTLAW 


302 

against the “ Sterling,” and it seemed as though the 
matter might develop into civil war. Transportation 
was supposed to have ceased in 1840, in response to 
urgent memorials to the Home Government; but in 
defiance of the impassioned protest of the people, con- 
victs were still being sent to Sydney, Melbourne, More- 
ton Bay, and Western Australia. 

As Sir James stepped down the gangway, he caught 
sight of Lieutenant Thompson watching the crowd, and 
with him was Captain Fraser, of the Nancy Lee . 
Handing some luggage to his man servant, who had met 
the steamer, the barrister walked over and accosted 
them. 

“ Sir J ames Bennett ! ” exclaimed the lieutenant 
in surprise, as he stepped back and looked hard at the 
lawyer, before taking his outstretched hand. “What! 
— I really beg your pardon, but I thought it was your 
ghost! I’m very pleased to see you. We read that 
you had been captured by Salathiel’s gang; you must 
have been ill, or very badly treated. I should scarcely 
have known you ! ” 

“ I’ve been through some strange and sad experiences 
since I last saw you,” replied the lawyer, as he turned 
round to grasp the hand of Captain Fraser — “ al- 
though,” he continued, “ not of the kind you evidently 
imagine. I may as well tell you at once that I have 
to thank Salathiel the outlaw for my life, and I have 
hurried down to Sydney to try to do him a service. 
But what’s the matter here ? ” 

“A touch of all-round popular insanity, from the 
Governor downward,” replied Lieutenant Thompson 
with a careless laugh. “ But take my arm, for you 
look completely knocked out; and come with us up to 


THE BANDITTI PARTY 


303 

the club and have some dinner, and tell us all about it. 
Why, man ! ” he exclaimed, “ whatever will Kitty say ! 
Do you know that you have turned almost grey ? ” 

“ I have been through that which might turn any 
man grey,” said the barrister. “ But come along, I 
shall have to run out to Longreach after I have done 
with you, and I want to interview the Governor to- 
morrow.” 

By this time Sir James Bennett was engaged to be 
married to the lieutenant’s charming sister Kitty, whose 
slight accident at Broadhaven Valley Station was the 
means of first introducing the lawyer to the bushranger. 

During dinner the three men chatted over the affairs 
engrossing public attention in Sydney; but afterward, 
as they sat smoking, Sir James told them of his meet- 
ing with Salathiel, how his life had been saved by the 
bushranger, and why his brown hair had come to be 
sprinkled thick with grey. The two men listened with 
absorbed interest. 

Before Sir James went out to Longreach that even- 
ing, the three gentlemen arrived at a mutual under- 
standing as to what they would do to assist Salathiel’s 
escape from Australia. Captain Fraser told of the 
chartering of his schooner for the voyage to America, 
and gave them the date when it was proposed that Sa- 
lathiel and Betsy should be married in Newcastle, on 
the night before the vessel sailed. 

“I cannot help thinking,” said Sir James Bennett, 
smiling, “ of that afternoon at Major Browne’s, when 
Salathiel said we might meet again in the north, and 
possibly he would win the rubber. If he gets away 
safely there is no doubt about it: he will have won the 
rubber. But look, Thompson, here comes your father ; I 


304 THE OUTLAW 

suppose it’s the trouble in the city which makes him 
look so grave.” 

They shook hands with Colonel Thompson, who 
stared at the lawyer in surprise, much as his son had 
done. “ I see you’ve had a rough time of it,” he said, 
as he grasped his hand ; “ but have you people heard 
the latest news ? ” 

“ What is that ? ” asked the lieutenant. 

“Why, Captain Moore is dead; Major McEarlane 
lies at death’s door at Kingdon Ponds; and a detach- 
ment of forty soldiers and police have been badly de- 
feated by Salathiel in the ranges. It’s bad news, just 
now, for the Government.” 

“ Is that really true ? ” exclaimed the barrister with 
a pale face. “ Why, I seem only just to have left 
them.” 

“ There can he no doubt about its truth,” replied the 
colonel. “ I had it from the Governor’s private secre- 
tary.” 

“ Then,” said Sir James, “ I am afraid we can do 
little, if anything, in Sydney for Salathiel. He’s won 
the rubber with a vengeance ! ” 


CHAPTER XXXVIII 

SYDNEY SHOWS THE GOVERNOR ITS TEETH 


W HEN the newspapers came out the following 
morning, they were full of reports of the disturb- 
ances in Sydney ; but contained only a brief paragraph 
about the important news told over-night by Colonel 
Thompson. There was no telegraph service in Austra- 
lia until 1851, so the editors could not wire for informa- 
tion, but they spoke of certain rumours which had 
filtered through to them from official sources. Captain 
Moore’s expedition to capture the outlaw Salathiel was 
believed to have altogether failed. The inspector was 
reported killed, and Major McFarlane badly wounded; 
but they awaited fuller information from their cor- 
respondents in the north. One journal remarked, that 
“ it was in keeping with the fatuous policy of the 
Government to hold back important information to suit 
their own ends. They would not*be a bit surprised if 
news came to hand that the outlaw autocrat of the 
northern district had again defeated both military and 
police.” 

It may be explained that the Government had ac- 
tually received detailed news of the disaster at Kingdon 
Ponds ; but with the city seething with excitement over 
the convict ship anchored in the harbour, with her 
prisoners unlanded, for the leaders of the people’s party 
had defied the Government to bring them on shore, it 
305 


THE OUTLAW 


306 

was thought advisable to keep hack the news of the re- 
verse as long as possible. 

“ The Banditti Government,” as it was opprobriously 
named by the Reformers, was beginning to realise at 
last that it had to face a rising tide of popular sen- 
timent which might overwhelm the old officialism which 
for half a century had held the public life of the 
Australian people in bondage. It was well known that 
the Government feared Salathiel, who had latterly be- 
come a prominent figure in the public mind. He was 
quoted to the authorities by radical journals as an ex- 
ample of the evils of the existing convict system and 
autocratic government. The people were exasperated 
with both the Government, military, and police, and it 
was quite possible that their defeat at Kingdon Ponds 
might make Salathiel the hero of the multitude. 

When the outlaw’s three friends met in Sir James 
Bennett’s chambers that morning, the general position 
of things was anxiously discussed. Sir James was far 
more hopeful, however, than he had been on the pre- 
vious evening, for by the morning’s overland mail he 
had received a lengthy letter from Salathiel, detailing 
in full the treachery of Fenton and Snow, the ambush, 
and the encounter with the military and police. A 
postscript had been added, that Major McFarlane was 
reported out of danger. His hopefulness had been 
further increased by a newspaper account of a public 
meeting recently held in the city. It was certainly an 
astonishing recital! 

It had been a wet day, but so great was the public 
interest that at eleven o’clock in the morning the shops 
and warehouses of Sydney had been closed, in order 
that the business people might attend an open-air meet- 


SYDNEY SHOWS ITS TEETH 307 

ing at Circular Wharf, to protest against the deporta- 
tion of the convicts on hoard a ship then in harbour. 
The top of an omnibus had been used by the speakers 

— prominent city men — to address a crowd of some 
5,000 citizens, who stood for hours in the rain listening 
to them, and enthusiastically passing strongly worded 
resolutions. Seldom had a Governor and Government 
been referred to in more scathing terms; the wonder 
of many was that some were not arrested for seditious 
language, and put in jail. 

“ Australia,’’ said the chairman, u does not want 
convicts. They have been the source of wealth to 
many, and no doubt others now hope to amass riches 
from their services. But we, free citizens of Australia, 
will have none of them ! The Government has threat- 
ened us in regard to our meeting, and has trained the 
guns of a warship upon us, but we have met peaceably 

— we have met in all loyalty, in all deference to the 
constituted authorities, in the highest and holiest patri- 
otism that can animate us as citizens, for the love 
we bear their families, in loyalty to Great Britain, and 
in the depth of our reverence for Almighty God — 
to protest against the landing again of British criminals 
on these shores.” 

The next speaker was a prominent city merchant. 
“ It is to assist the material interests of a clique,” he 
said, “ that convicts are wanted ; but the colonists of 
Australia, as a body of free men, have refused the gilded 
iniquity with disdain.” 

The eyes of Sir James glistened as he presently read 
the name of a speaker who was a famous Q.C. and a 
brother barrister, destined afterward to obtain high 
rank in the British Cabinet. He was reported by the 


THE OUTLAW 


308 

newspaper at length, and his fervid language was n 
calculated to reassure the Governor of New Sou 
Wales. He was enthusiastically cheered as he ( 
dared that “the resumption of transportation by t 
Government is an outrage, which has been officiom 
and insultingly perpetrated upon us by his Excelleu 
the Governor. That gentleman’s threat of degradati 
has been fulfilled. The stately presence of our ciij, 
the beautiful waters of our harbour, are to-day again 
polluted with the presence of that floating hell — a 
convict ship. We are told that this shipment was of 
the picked and selected criminals of Great Britain ; but, 
as a previous speaker remarked, we will have none of 
them! I view this attempt to inflict the worst and 
most degrading slavery upon the Colony, only as a 
sequence of that oppressive tyranny which has con- 
fiscated the lands of the Colony for the benefit of a 
class. That class knows its power ; and it is not content 
to get the lands alone; without labour they are worth- 
less, and therefore it must enrich them with the labour 
of slaves. But it is not the mere fear of competition 
among workmen that brings us here to-day ; it is not a 
breeches-pocket question of the labouring class. It is 
a struggle for liberty — a struggle against a system 
which has, in every country where it has prevailed, been 
destructive of freedom. Let it go home, that the people 
of New South Wales reject — indignantly reject — 
the inheritance of wealthy shame which Great Britain 
holds out to her. That she spurns the gift, deceitfully 
gilded though it be. That she spurns the degradation, 
however eloquently it may be glossed over. Let us send 
across the Pacific our emphatic declaration, that we 
will not be slaves — that we will be freer” 


SYDNEY SHOWS ITS TEETH 309 

At a later period of his address the orator paused, 
and looked around upon the mass of upturned faces 
which, forgetful of the rain, hung upon his words with 
open mouths and flashing eyes, and muttered threats 
against the Government. 

u I can see,” he continued, u see from this very meet- 
ing, that the time is not far distant when we shall assert 
our freedom not by words alone. In America oppres- 
sion was the parent of independence, so will it be in 
this Colony. The seed will grow into a plant, and the 
plant into a tree. As in all times and in all nations, 
so will injustice and tyranny ripen into rebellion and 
rebellion into independence.” (Tumultuous cheering.) 

“ There will be bloodshed if they don’t mind,” com- 
mented the barrister to himself. 66 Government House 
may well be guarded by soldiers with fixed bayonets. 
But let us see what more was said.” 

The next speaker he knew as a brilliant journalist, 
who, years afterward, was for long Premier of Hew 
South Wales. 

He said : “ I can only express my deep feeling of 

indignation at the insult that has been offered the com- 
munity at large, and the only remedy I can see — the 
only course consistent with justice to the colonists at 
large, is that the convict ship and cargo be sent back 
to England. The injustice we have now met to pro- 
test against is far more flagrant, far more oppressive, 
than that which gave birth to the American rebellion.” 

More speeches followed in the same strain, and then 
horses were put into the omnibus and a deputation of 
twenty-four gentlemen, elected by the meeting, went to 
Government House, to interview His Excellency, and 
lay certain resolutions, unanimously carried by the 


THE OUTLAW 


310 

meeting, before him; but to their astonishment they 
were met by a guard of soldiers with fixed bayonets, 
and six only were admitted, who were coldly received 
by the Governor’s private secretary, and without any 
hearing, discourteously rebuffed. The leading journal, 
aghast at their reception, appealed to His Excellency 
to meet the people in a better spirit, and warned him 
and the Council of the possible consequences of their 
high-handed procedure. “ Rightly or wrongly,” said 
the article, “ the public mind is in a state of high ex- 
asperation, and ought to be appeased.” 

“ Ah ! ” said the lieutenant, to Sir James, “ they are 
holding meetings almost daily, and the colonel says the 
Governor is beside himself with apprehension, and has 
the kitchen and outhouses packed with soldiers. If 
the story of Salathiel and Moore and the forest fires, 
with the particulars you could furnish, appeared in the 
newspapers at the present time, it would pretty well 
knock the Government into a cocked hat. It is my 
opinion that rather than have it published, the Governor 
would be willing even to wink at Salathiel’s escape. 
They have got their hands full just now, and it would 
be better for the Government if Salathiel quietly left 
Australia than for him to be captured. But you’ll 
have to get something in writing; unfortunately, in a 
case of this sort you can’t trust the Governor’s word. 
Ho doubt they are in a tight corner about this trans- 
portation business, and if we can work things right, 
I believe the Governor will give in, rather than have 
your story made public.” 

“ Yes, I think we have a case against them,” said 
the barrister slowly ; “ I find there have been something 
like thirty deaths through the fire which the police 


SYDNEY SHOWS ITS TEETH 31 1 

started, and some of the journals are hot enough just 
now to call those deaths murders. And there’s no 
doubt that’s what they were. It would give the 
speakers at Circular Wharf something more to talk 
about.” 

“ By the way,” interposed Captain Eraser, “ there’s 
to be another meeting at the wharf at one o’clock to- 
day. The doctor is to be one of the speakers, and the 
Q.C. and several others; they are going to move a vote 
of censure on His Excellency the Governor, and ask 
the Home Authorities to recall him — unless the guns 
of the warship should first blow them into smithereens.” 

“ I don’t think it’s any use your trying to get an audi- 
ence to-day,” said the lieutenant. “ I hear the Governor 
is frightened to see any one, lest he should be assassin- 
ated. And if they make it as hot for him at this after- 
noon’s meeting as they say they will, he will be the less 
likely to want to have your story in the newspapers. . . . 
Let’s have some lunch first, and go to the meeting to- 
gether. I feel rather sorry for the poor old Governor ; 
he’s an old Waterloo hero, you know; but we are on for 
the rescue of Salathiel; and all is fair, they say, in 
love and war.” 

So it was agreed that they should lunch at the 
Australian Club and attend the meeting together, and 
see how what was said might further affect the Govern- 
ment and possibly help their plans for Salathiel’s escape. 

“ I think it’s just as well to put you on your guard,” 
said Captain Eraser after lunch; “ it’s generally be- 
lieved down on the quay that there’ll be bloodshed over 
this meeting to-day.” 


CHAPTER XXXIX 

HIS EXCELLENCES VOTE OF CENSURE 

T HE Nancy Lee was berthed at Circular Quay, load- 
ing cargo, and as it was still early for the meeting, 
Captain Eraser had invited Sir James and the lieu- 
tenant to walk down and look over her ; but when they 
got into the street they found streams of people hurry- 
ing down to the large vacant space above Circular 
Wharf, which overlooked Circular Quay and that por- 
tion of Sydney Harbour. The excitement of the hour 
caught hold of them, and they at once followed with the 
crowd to the place of meeting. 

It was a notable occasion, and many of the 6,000 
men which composed the great gathering were secretly 
armed. There were 1,200 newly arrived immigrants 
still on board the ships in harbour, and over 200 trans- 
ported criminals in the convict-ship. The loaded guns 
of the warship were still trained upon the crowd. 

When the chairman, who was a Liberal member of 
the Legislative Council, opened the proceedings, it was 
evident he realised the gravity of the occasion. “ The 
enemies of the people,” he said, in a voice which was 
husky with emotion, “ have industriously circulated re- 
ports that this day will be one of violence. The Govern- 
ment will be only too happy to see those reports verified, 
that the military may be brought to trample us under 
foot ; but I exhort you to have patience, and exercise the 
3X2 


A VOTE OF CENSURE 


313 

utmost forbearance and self-control. We have come here 
to-day to ask the motherland to grant us responsible 
Government; to petition Her Majesty the Queen to 
remove the Secretary for the Colonies from her coun- 
cils, and to pass a vote of censure upon His Excellency 
the Governor, and to ask for his recall. We shall be 
addressed by responsible citizens, gentlemen of posi- 
tion and influence and high esteem among us, and 
there is no need for me to ask, on their behalf, a patient 
and attentive hearing.” 

The first speaker, a popular medical man, moved a 
resolution which at once revealed the temper of the 
gathering. It was, “ That the time has now arrived 
for appealing to the Queen by petition, praying Her 
Majesty to dismiss the Secretary for the Colonies from 
her councils.” Before speaking to the resolution, the 
doctor referred to the Governor’s studied discourtesy to 
the deputation already sent to him by the citizens. 
“ He has deliberately insulted the people by refusing 
to receive the whole of the deputation, and those he did 
receive he would not allow to speak, and further in- 
sulted by the repulsive chill he threw over his words 
and actions. There is a Persian saying that it is the 
last feather’s weight that breaks the camel’s back, and 
the -Governor’s discourtesy is the feather-weight on this 
occasion. It is the last drop in our cup of wrath, which 
is now filled to overflowing.” 

“ What do you think of that for straight talk ? ” 
whispered the lieutenant to Sir James, “ but that’s noth L 
ing to what you’ll hear before the meeting is over.” 

The administration of the Colonial Office was 
severely criticised by the next speaker, who also roughly 
attacked certain members of the Legislative Council, 


THE OUTLAW 


3H 

especially Wentworth, who had latterly more closely 
identified himself with the Governor’s party. “ There 
is some talk,” he said, “ of adding another link to the 
chain which binds ns to the British throne by creating 
Colonial titles. If I have any voice in a measure of 
this kind, my first step would be to create William 
Charles Wentworth Duke of the Lash and Triangle.” 
This sally was greeted with loud laughter and cheers. 

Speaker after speaker followed, unanimously con- 
demning the Governor and his Government. Said 
one : “ It is reported that the Governor is frightened ; 

but why does he not yield to public opinion and the 
courteously expressed petitions of free citizens ? Noth- 
ing is more monstrous and absurd than the assertion 
that a reign of terror is to be apprehended in the 
Colony. Most of the advisers of the Crown are disloyal 
to the land of their birth ; and their so-called representa- 
tive council is a monstrous farce. Why, two counties 
near Sydney have only sixty electors, and men like the 

hon. member for C could return any one they 

pleased, even their own footman.” 

The excitement of the meeting, however, reached its 
height when the Queen’s Counsel rose to move the vote 
of censure upon His Excellency the Governor. He 
said he scarcely knew why he had been called to move 
this resolution. “ I seem to have been selected to bell 
the cat ; if such is the case, bell the cat I will ! ” The 
learned gentleman waited until the cheering which 
greeted this had subsided. “ I believe,” he said, “ the 
Governor entertains a kind of languid and sickly sym- 
pathy with the colonists, for which we, the people, 
are charged one hundred pounds sterling per week, with 
seven or eight hundred pounds added money. It is 


A VOTE OF CENSURE 


3i5 

not pleasant for me to fall foul of this very respectable 
gentleman and to censure him for his misbehaviour. 
I will refer first to the matter of the deputation to 
His Excellency. There were twenty-three, or four, 
gentlemen in that deputation ; but only six were admit- 
ted. They found the gates of His Excellency’s palace 
closed against them ; inside there was a double military 
guard, with bayonets fixed; the mounted police were 
quartered in the stables, and the kitchen was garrisoned 
with soldiers.” (Great sensation.) 

“ The friends of the Governor excuse him because 
they said he was afraid. He was afraid! He, a 
soldier, and afraid! He, an old Waterloo hero, and 
afraid of a few unhappy colonists! They were there 
to discuss this convict question with him, and not to at- 
tack his palace. Was the Governor afraid of his silver 
spoons, or did he think the deputation would proceed 
to a general sack of the house, and drink all the claret 
in his cellars ? Or was it that six pair of dirty shoes 
should be allowed to intrude upon the vice-regal carpet ? 
The people’s deputation has met with great insult. 
They desired to have a little conversation with the 
Governor; but they did not succeed. I can say for 
myself, at least, that I behaved much more civilly than 
usual; but His Excellency quietly and coolly bowed 
us out of the room. 

“ The fact is the Governor is surrounded by parasites 
and sycophants, who are always anxious to keep him 
from any presence save their own. Talk of govern- 
ment in the Colonies; why, there is no government. 
The machine that is called government consists of a 
body of over-paid superior and subordinate clerks, and 
brutalised prison and police officials. We are mocked 


THE OUTLAW 


316 

with a wretched mongrel imitation of a representative 
legislature which is called a Government. Government 
indeed! why, the outrageous reign of the outlaw Sala- 
thiel in the northern districts has been productive of 
more safety to the travelling public than all the police 
prosecutions and floggings and executions in Sydney! 
It is safer, so far as foot-pads and bushrangers go, to 
travel on the northern road between Maitland and Mur- 
rurundi than between Sydney and Parramatta, and this 
very Salathiel, whom the Government will not, or can- 
not, capture, is a standing illustration of how the con- 
vict system can force men into crime, and how 
absolutely the Government has failed to protect the prop- 
erty and persons of the colonists. But to refer to 
another matter: His Excellency seems to have lost 
sight of the fact that it is the bounden duty of the 
Government, in the present state of public affairs, to 
make no exhibition whatever of military force. Un- 
less the Government wished to invite open acts of 
hostility, it would never have taken the steps it did last 
week. Does the Government want to incite in this 
Colony a scene like the bloody field of Peterloo or the 
Manchester Massacre? Had the meeting last week 
been provoked to violence, as it well might have been, 
the military would have issued from the Governor’s 
gates, and carnage and slaughter would have resulted.” 

It was difficult for many in the crowd to restrain 
their excited feelings ; but the orator changed his theme, 
and in scathing terms denounced the indolence and ex- 
travagance of the Governor and his court. “ In all 
other countries,” he said, “ under all other Govern- 
ments, the destruction of dynasties has been caused by 
the profligacy and extravagance of the Government. 


A VOTE OF CENSURE 


3i7 

The sturdy people of England met and resolved to com- 
pel the Government into economy, and therefore, while 
other nations fell a prey to anarchy, confusion, and 
bloodshed, she held on her way — she maintained her 
station, because her people have been taught to know 
their rights and maintain them.” 

Much more was said; but in closing the speaker re- 
minded them that this was only the beginning of the 
people’s struggle for Australian nationhood and free- 
dom. “ We must be prepared to meet any emergency, 
any difficulty, if we wish to free our necks from the 
yoke of the odious domination of brutal officialism to 
which we have been subjected, and put ourselves in the 
position of Englishmen possessed of freedom.” 

“ Come away,” said the barrister to his friends, as 
this speaker sat down, amid tremendous cheering. 
“ When the report of this meeting appears in the news- 
paper to-morrow morning, and His Excellency has had 
time to read and digest it, it will, I think, be an op- 
portune occasion to make an appeal unto Caesar. 
Surely he will never allow what I can tell the papers 
to appear in print, in the face of what is practically 
the fringe of a revolution ! ” 


C'HAPTEK XL 


AN APPEAL UNTO C^SAK 

T HE report of the meeting of the Anti-transporta- 
tion League which appeared next morning in the 
leading journal occupied over six columns of close print. 
The editor described it as a highly influential and well- 
conducted meeting. The speakers, he said, were 
legislators, clergymen, professional men, and citizens 
of known integrity and standing. 

Sir James read the full report of the meeting with 
some astonishment; the audacity and outspokenness of 
the speeches, the fearless denunciation of the Colonial 
Secretary, and the wrathful censure of the Governor, 
suggested to him a state of public feeling and resent- 
ment against the authorities which, he thought, no sane 
man would dare to trifle with. But the lawyer, 
shrewd as he was, failed to realise fully the Governor’s 
position; he looked at it from the Australian view- 
point, but there was another side. 

His Excellency was an aristocrat, closely connected 
by birth and marriage with some of the highest families 
of England. He had been a military commander-in- 
chief and was accustomed to military absolutism. He 
knew nothing about popular government, or any rights 
possessed by the working classes. He was naturally 
skilled in diplomacy and the writing of dispatches, but 
too indolent to concern himself with colonial affairs. 
318 


AN APPEAL UNTO CAESAR 319 

A few favoured members of the Council were allowed 
to manage public matters, both military and police, 
much as they pleased; for he felt himself to be rather 
above the business of governing colonists and convicts, 
who, to bis mind, were much alike. The post carried 
a good income, and was a comfortable mode of living, 
and he made it as much a sinecure as possible. The 
result was that he occasionally blundered in matters 
of business connected with the Home Office, and made 
serious mistakes in his dispatches; and at the time re- 
ferred to had fallen into disfavour with both the 
Colonial Secretary and the British Cabinet, who thought 
that he should have asserted his authority more effec- 
tively over the colonists, and kept them quieter and 
more orderly. 

The remarkable social upheaval over the convict-ship 
had astonished him, and put him on the horns of a 
dilemma; but by hook or by crook, whatever might be 
the consequences for the Colony, he was determined to 
land the convicts sent out by the Colonial Secretary, 
and thus keep himself right with the British Colonial 
Office and those he regarded as his friends in Australia. 
How, a Governor of those days was supposed to be a 
sort of father to his people, and was invested with prac- 
tically absolute power, if he chose to exercise it ; and the 
then Governor, once aroused, was both obstinate and im- 
placable, for he came of a family of autocrats, not used 
to being thwarted, especially by inferiors. So, al- 
though Sir James spent hours preparing a brief, as it 
were, for the interview, he overlooked several important 
facts, and started for Government House after lunch 
with his confreres in great hope of success. He 
handed his card to the Governor’s private secretary to 


THE OUTLAW 


320 

present to His Excellency with sanguine expectations 
that the interview would be brief and satisfactory. 

He was, of course, well known at Government House, 
but to his surprise and annoyance he was kept waiting 
in the great man’s ante-chamber for over two hours; 
the Governor’s private secretary coldly explained to 
him that His Excellency was engaged with members 
of the Council. He was really engaged with a game 
of cards, for he wished to forget the report of the 
meeting, which, however, had not troubled him very 
much, for the one exclamation of the light-hearted Gov- 
ernor when he read it was : “ Let them all go hang ! ” 

His principal reason for leaving the lawyer to cool his 
heels so long in the ante-chamber was his presence at 
the previous day’s meeting, which had been duly re- 
ported to the Governor by his spies. At last, when 
his patience was well-nigh exhausted, the lawyer was 
surprised to see Colonel Thompson enter the waiting- 
room. 

“ I heard you were here,” he said, greeting him cor- 
dially, “ and although I am not in your confidence over 
certain matters, as my son, the lieutenant, is, I can 
partly guess what your business with His Excellency 
may be. How, my dear fellow, if you will be advised 
by me, you will defer this interview until to-morrow. 
I am afraid that you would not get a very sympathetic 
hearing from the Governor to-day.” 

“ But my business won’t wait ; it is of first import- 
ance to His Excellency, and concerns public affairs. 
Both for the sake of the Government and Colony I 
must see him at once.” 

“ You belong to our party, Sir James,” said Colonel 
Thompson earnestly, “ and are soon to be allied to my 


321 


AN APPEAL UNTO CAESAR 

family. I hear that Salathiel the outlaw saved your 
life ; hut don’t you think that you are pushing things 
somewhat too far \ ” 

“ Do you know my business, Colonel ? ” 
a No, I can honestly say, I do not; but I have reason 
to imagine that it is something which would favour 
Salathiel to the disadvantage of the Government. You 
know, Bennett,” he continued with strong feeling, 
u this outlaw is a connection of my family by marriage ; 
he is a thorn in the side of a good many of us, and 
from His Excellency down we should all be glad to 
know that he was dead; it would be a relief to the 
Colony ; but to grant him a pardon or anything of that 
sort is out of all question. The Governor won’t en- 
tertain it for a moment. So far as I am concerned, for 
the sake of the public good, and to teach men to respect 
the law, even if he were my own son, I would have him 
shot or hanged.” 

“ You judge the man without having heard the 
evidence,” replied Sir James calmly. “ I have nothing 
to propose which will be inimical either to His Excel- 
lency or the colonists, but rather to the contrary. He 
can settle the matter privately with a word ; but I wish 
to see him alone.” 

The colonel looked at him earnestly for a moment. 
“ You shall see him,” he said at last, “ and alone; but 
don’t be disappointed. He is in no humour to yield 
an inch to the mob. The insolence of yesterday’s meet- 
ing has thoroughly aroused him, and he has been told 
that, to some extent, you are in sympathy with the 
people’s party.” 

“What nonsense!” said Sir James. “Has the 
Governor forgotten that I’m a lawyer % ” 


THE OUTLAW 


322 

Shortly afterward a servant in livery ushered Sir 
James into a large apartment, where His Excellency sat 
writing at a table. Soldiers with fixed bayonets kept 
guard at the door. 

“ You can leave, Morris,” said the Governor. 

“Take a chair, Sir James,” he said, but without 
offering the lawyer his hand. “ I have agreed to see 
you without my secretary being present; but, as I am 
very busy, kindly make the interview as brief as pos- 
sible. We have had bad news from the north; I am 
informed that you have just returned from Kingdon 
Ponds and can supply us with further information as 
to recent events. Excuse my smoking while you talk ; 
I can give you ten minutes.” He leaned back in his 
chair, and having lit a cigar, toyed with the ears of a 
pet dog as he scrutinised Sir James curiously. It was 
a mistake, however, to flout in this fashion one who was 
thoroughly friendly, and who, by birth, education, and 
instinct, belonged to his own class ; but the Governor, 
unfortunately, was given to making mistakes of this 
sort. 

“ I expect that your Excellency will have noticed my 
changed appearance,” began the lawyer. “ I was 
brown-haired a month ago, to-day you will see that I 
am almost grey. I fell into the hands of a bushranger 
north of Kingdon Ponds, and, unconscious, was left 
tied to a tree to die, when the outlaw Salathiel found 
and rescued me, and like a good Samaritan, not only 
saved my life, but returned to me my watch and other 
property.” 

“ I suppose it was one of his own gang that robbed 
you ! ” said the Governor. 

“ Ho; it was a notorious highway robber and assassin, 


AN APPEAL UNTO CiESAR 323 

Hogan by name ; Salathiel allows no robbery or violence 
to be committed by any of his men.” 

“Well, you got your watch and money back,” said 
the Governor impatiently ; “ and what then ? ” 

“We were unable to reach the Northern-road, as 
the bush and forest had been fired by the police, on the 
order of Captain Moore. So I went with Salathiel to 
Adullam to rest and recuperate.” 

“ Captain Moore is, unfortunately, dead,” said the 
Governor, “ and dead men tell no tales. Nor can dead 
men defend themselves, so it is usual only to speak 
good of them.” 

“ But the police who fired the forest are not dead, 
your Excellency, and a number of others can witness 
to the truth of what I am about to say.” 

“ Well, go on, but be as brief as ,possibleJ’ 

There was probably at that time no man in Australia 
who could present evidence in a more graphic and con- 
vincing manner than Sir James Bennett, and he rapidly 
sketched the unfortunate career of the notorious out- 
law. With skilfully chosen words and masterly effect 
he secured the Governor’s attention, and half an hour 
passed by with His Excellency still listening, as scene 
after scene in the outlaw’s strange, sad life was made 
to live before him. The description of Adullam Glen, 
with its brotherhood of outlaws, the Union Jack flying 
over their heads, was vividly portrayed; then the fire, 
the funeral, the women and little children, and the 
havoc wrought by other fires which followed, were 
referred to, and also the long death-roll of official 
murders. The treachery of Fenton and Snow, the am- 
bush, the deaths in the gully, the utter rout of the large 
body of soldiers and policemen, were each mentioned. 


THE OUTLAW 


324 

Salathiel was still at large, and, if an account of these 
things appeared in the newspapers, he would likely 
enough become the popular idol of the disaffected multi- 
tude. “ But,” said the lawyer, pausing significantly, 
“ he is willing and anxious to come to terms with the 
Government, and leave Australia for good.” 

“ I suppose you want me to grant this outlaw a free 
pardon ? ” said the Governor. 

“ Not exactly that, your Excellency ; hut ” 

“No huts, Sir James, and no free pardons! The 
man’s a criminal, and sooner or later must fall into our 
hands, when his end will be the gallows. It’s of no use 
pleading for him to me. He saved your life, you say, 
and you feel bound to do what you can to save his, I 
suppose. I dare say that if I allowed him to escape 
the country it would please a certain section of the 
convict class; but I shall do nothing to gratify or in 
any way appease that crowd. This is a penal settle- 
ment, and I shall treat it as such, and in future rule it 
more strictly upon police and military lines. Every 
effort shall be made to take this man and have him shot 
or hanged. You’re an eminent advocate, and I suppose 
you will defend him, but he will be convicted, never- 
theless, and sentenced and hanged, unless he should 
be shot beforehand or commit suicide. That’s my 
answer, Sir James Bennett. Good afternoon.” 

“ Pardon me one moment, your Excellency. I have 
always been a friend and supporter of your Govern- 
ment; there is great public tension at the present, and 
unless the facts I have told you are suppressed they 
must get into the newspapers. We now have trial by 
jury, and there is a very strong criminal case against 
the police.” 


AN APPEAL UNTO CAESAR 325 

“ Who do you think will dare to proceed against the 
police ? ” 

“ I, for one, yonr Excellency, unless reasonable 
justice is done to those who have suffered by those 
official crimes.” 

u That is strong language, Sir James: it sounds very 
much like a threat.” 

“ I don’t wish it to be a threat, your Excellency ; 
but Salathiel’s secret departure from Australia just 
now would certainly remove possible dangers from the 
pathway of the Government.” 

“ Would you go bond for his good behaviour, and 
that his departure should be effected promptly and 
secretly ? ” 

“ Yes ; if you included certain of his men.” 

“ The Colony, no doubt, would be well rid of the 
whole of them,” said the Governor; a but let me tell 
you, Sir J ames, that you have come to the wrong man. 
I’ll be no party to compounding a felony, or winking at 
the escape of a criminal from justice; these men have 
broken the law and defied my Government, and would 
now like to take advantage of this popular disturbance 
and escape scot-free. But let Salathiel look to himself. 
I’ll have every ship that leaves Australian waters 
watched, and increase the reward offered for his capture 
by another thousand pounds. He’ll fall into my hands 
yet, and then I’ll give the Colony an object-lesson it 
will remember.” 

“ Does your Excellency know that Salathiel is con- 
nected by marriage with Colonel Thompson, and that 
the Salathiels of Sydney are among the wealthiest and 
best respected of our citizens; that the man himself 
has recently come into an income, through the death of 


THE OUTLAW 


326 

a relative, of over two thousand pounds per annum ; 
that he has made full restitution for all his former 
robberies; that he is a man of strong religious princi- 
ples, and that he was driven by our brutal convict 
system into crime ; but during the past eighteen months 
he has done the Colony immense service by putting 
down bushranging in the north and capturing and 
punishing some of the most dangerous and bloodthirsty 
bushrangers, whom our mounted police tried to capture 
in vain; and saved several prominent citizens’ lives? 
Surely, your Excellency, this is a case for mercy ! ” 

The Governor and barrister were now upon their 
feet, facing each other; but the former regarded the 
latter only with disdainful silence. 

“ Your Excellency will not wish the whole of this 
story of the late Captain Moore’s criminal firing of 
the northern forest to appear in the public press just 
now ? ” 

“ I have given you my answer,” replied the Governor 
coolly. Tie rang the bell for a footman, and told him 
to show Sir James Bennett to the door. Behind a 
screen, unknown to the lawyer, a Government short- 
hand writer had taken a full report of the interview, 
to be shown to the Council. 

The appeal unto Csesar had been made in vain ! 


CHAPTER XLI 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS 

S IR JAMES BENNETT occupied a fine suite of 
chambers in Temple Court, Castlereagh Street, but 
they were a despondent trio who met there that night, 
as the lawyer told of the result of his mission to 
Government House. 

By this time the affairs of Salathiel and Betsy had 
reached a critical stage. In another week it would be 
full moon, and the schooner would be awaiting her pas- 
sengers in Newcastle Harbour. Costly preparations 
had already been made by Salathiel and his sister Ruth 
and other friends, in view of the prospective wedding 
and departure of the vessel; but with police and mili- 
tary on the alert, specially instructed to watch the move- 
ments of shipping, in view of the outlaw attempting to 
leave the country, it seemed impossible that their plans 
for a safe send-off for Salathiel and Betsy could be car- 
ried out. Sir James said their departure would have to 
be deferred. He thought Betsy had better remain for 
a while at Kingdon Ponds, or Morpeth; and Sala- 
thiel would have, once more, to intrench himself in the 
ranges. The Governor’s resolute attitude had been to 
the lawyer what fighting-men would call a knock-out 
blow; but Sir James hesitated to play his trump card, 
for he knew it to be a trump card only so long as it 
remained in his possession. 

327 


THE OUTLAW 


328 

After his return to Government House, reporters 
from the newspapers had called upon Sir James, 
hungry for copy. Humours had gone abroad that he 
could tell a strange story about Salathiel and the death 
of Captain Moore, if he would. It would be a great 
scoop for the paper that got it; but the lawyer refused 
all information; they might call again on the morrow, 
if they liked ; he was too tired then. Even a sub-editor 
came up to urge him to make an appointment at the 
office, to see his chief; but he was obdurate; he would 
say nothing. “ You want me to drag my story up by the 
roots,” he said, “ and give it to the public half-ripe ; 
but I won’t do it.” His natural caution told him that 
for Salathiel’s sake the interview with the Governor 
should be kept a secret, or he might have said that he 
was too much knocked over by the Governor’s treat- 
ment of him to do or say any more that day. 

Accordingly Salathiel’s three friends sat together that 
night, trying to think out some new scheme to evade 
the police and secure an opportunity for the outlaw’s 
departure; but no one seemed able to suggest any im- 
provement upon the Newcastle proposition which was 
at all feasible. 

“ With the Government warned and on the alert, I’m 
afraid the risk is too great at present,” said Captain 
Fraser. “ They’ll have to wait until this affair blows 
over.” 

“Do you think it would be of any use to see the 
Chief Justice % ” said the lieutenant ; “ he’s a far- 
sighted man, and knows the temper of the people’s 
party better than the Governor.” 

“ Ho use,” said the barrister, “ absolutely of no use. 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS 329 

He’s more prejudiced against Salathiel than the Gov- 
ernor.” 

“ What about your father, Lieutenant ? ” said the 
Master of the Ncmcy Lee ; “ he’s commander-in-chief of 
the military, and has a lot of power.” 

“ I’ve never sounded the pater,” said Lieutenant 
Thompson ; “ he’s a hard nail, you know, in regard to 
public affairs. Perhaps he might be induced to do 
something if Salathiel could be persuaded to sell him 
Pleetfoot; but I understand that he has arranged to 
take the horse with him on the Nancy Lee.” 

They had a good laugh over this, for the colonel’s 
admiration of the outlaw’s favourite steed was a sub- 
ject of frequent pleasantry; and the laugh did them 
all good, for by this time they were getting morbid. 

“ I wish Salathiel were here himself,” said the bar- 
rister ; “ he might suggest something that would give 
us a little more light.” 

At that moment Sir James Bennett’s man knocked at 
the door to say that supper was served, and also to 
inform his master that there was a gentleman waiting 
to see him downstairs. 

“ Another of those confounded reporters,” ejacu- 
lated the lawyer. “ Gentlemen, will you kindly begin 
supper and I’ll go downstairs and send him off, and be 
with you in a moment.” 

He was gone, however, several minutes, and eventu- 
ally he entered the supper-room in company with a 
distinguished-looking naval officer of middle age. 
“ Gentlemen,” said he, “ let me introduce to you my 
friend, who has consented to take supper with us — 
Captain Jack Salathiel.” 


THE OUTLAW 


330 

“It’s an illustration of an old proverb, Jack,” said 
tbe lieutenant, shaking him cordially by the hand. 
“We were just talking about you, and you’ve ap- 
peared, but I never should have known you, especially 
in that uniform.” 

“By what Sir James tells me,” answered Salathiel 
with a smile, “ I think my coming more fitly illustrates 
another proverb.” 

“What is that?” asked Captain Fraser, as he shook 
hands with the outlaw. 

“A spoonful of honey attracts more flies than a 
hundred barrels of vinegar,” replied Salathiel. “ I 
have called at an opportune time, I understand; not 
only because supper is ready, but because you have 
something to tell me that may necessitate a change of 
our plans. I hear that the appeal unto Caesar has 
failed, as I told Sir James I feared it would.” 

“ Is it not a great risk for you to be in Sydney ? ” 
queried Captain Fraser nervously. 

“ Not a bit,” replied Salathiel, “ that is, while I 
keep sober and retain my disguise and common sense. 
Would any of you have known me either by my appear- 
ance or speech ? ” 

“ Certainly not ! ” they all exclaimed, laughing 
heartily, for he had addressed them in the guttural 
English of a native of Berlin. 

During supper they discussed the barrister’s inter- 
view with the Governor, but Salathiel protested that 
neither Governor nor Government should induce him 
to change his plans. He would go through with it now 
and marry Betsy and leave Australia by the schooner 
by the full of the moon. 

“But suppose you are arrested, Jack?” said Lieu- 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS 331 

tenant Thompson. “ You see, the police will be 
doubly on the alert; and if they add another thousand 
pounds to the reward, it will be a great temptation to 
any who may think they recognise you.” 

“ Have I done right in coming here to-night ? ” 
asked Salathiel, looking at the lawyer. 

u I think so,” said Sir James; “ it is very opportune 
for our plans, and we are all glad to see you.” 

“Well, I have ridden here to-day from Newcastle 
on Eleetfoot, and I came in obedience to a sub-con- 
scious monitor which warned me to come and see Sir 
James at once; the voice which speaks frequently to* 
me from within told me that I might come with safety, 
and should return again in safety; and, gentlemen, I 
believe that voice, as I believe in God. For eighteen 
months it has never once misled or deceived me.” 

After Salathiel’s arrival, Sir James had told his 
man not to come in without knocking, and he was then 
heard knocking at the door. A city clock had just 
chimed the half-hour after ten. The barrister, who 
had cautiously locked the door, now arose to open it; 
and master and man stood for a full minute talking at 
the door. 

“ You say it’s a tall gentleman wearing spurs, who 
looks like a military officer, and he refuses to give his 
name or state his business. You told him that I was 
engaged?” 

“ I did, Sir James, but he pushed his way in, and 
ordered me to go and tell you at once that a gentle- 
man wished to see you on urgent business immedi- 
ately.” 

The lawyer turned to his friends, and said : “ Will 

you excuse my leaving you for a few minutes, gentle- 


THE OUTLAW 


332 

men? Some one wants to see me on a matter of 
urgency. Lieutenant, will you kindly lock the door 
after me; it’s best to be on the safe side. I will give 
three distinct raps when I return.” 

Five minutes passed, and ten, and a quarter of an 
hour; and then the men, who had finished supper and 
were smoking some of the lawyer’s cigars, heard the 
hall-door bang. 

A minute afterward, three distinct raps were heard 
at the door, and the lieutenant hurried forward to 
open it. 

It was Sir James Bennett; but as white as a ghost. 
He sat down at the table without speaking, poured him- 
self a glass of port and drank it. 

“ Gentlemen,” he said, in a strangely subdued voice, 
“ one of the most remarkable things in the whole 
of my experience has happened. After our friend 
Salathiel’s last remark before I left you, I can only 
associate it with some occult force or power. Indeed, 
gentlemen, I say it with the utmost reverence, it seems 
to me like the interposition of a Divine power.” He 
held up before them an official envelope bearing the 
Government seal. “ This,” he said, “ has just been 
handed to me, and you will pardon me if I pause for 
a few minutes’ thought before I disclose the name of 
the person who gave it to me and what he said regard- 
ing it. Bead it out to us, Thompson ; I feel as though 
my very eyes might mislead me.” He handed over 
to the lieutenant a square of parchment which he had 
taken from the envelope ; it was also stamped with the 
Government seal. It was evidently not a lengthy docu- 
ment, for Lieutenant Thompson held it at arms-length, 
under the lights, regarding it with the greatest aston- 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS 333 

ishment; he gave an exclamation of pleased surprise, 
before he read it aloud, as follows: 

u Know, all officers and men of the New South Wales 
military forces, and all officers and constables of the 
New South Wales police, that you are hereby in- 
structed to pass the bearer and his friends, without in- 
quiry or hindrance, for a term of one month from the 
fifteenth of February, 1851. 

By order 

{Signed) James H. Thompson, 
Commander-in-chief N.S.W. Forces. 

{Signed) William De Courtney, 

Inspector of Police.” 

A strange sigh escaped the lips of Salathiel after 
the document had been read, and the four men looked 
at each other as though they had been struck speechless. 
It was the lawyer who first found his voice. 

“ That c safe-conduct ’ is for you, Salathiel,” he 
said, “ to use as discreetly as possible, and only in 
case of emergency, for your own protection and any 
of your men who are to be fellow-passengers with you 
on the Nancy Lee. I have pledged my word that you 
will hold it as an absolute secret, and use it only for 
the purpose of leaving this country, in case your per- 
sonal safety and liberty require that it should be pro- 
duced, and that in no sense whatever will its possession 
by you be abused. The inward monitor which sent you 
to-day to Sydney, and guided you here to-night, and 
promised that you should return in safety, is to me an 
inexplicable mystery. But the evidence is incontesta- 
ble, for you are here in Sydney, and this ‘ safe-conduct/ 


THE OUTLAW 


334 

under the seal of the Colony and signed by the heads 
of the military and police, has dropped into your hand 
from the clouds, as it were, as a gift from Heaven. 
Take it, my friend, but be very backward in using it, 
for my opinion is that only two persons in Hew South 
Wales know of the purpose for which it has been issued ; 
and the Inspector of Police is not one of them. It’s 
a gift from the gods, as the old heathen would say; or, 
as we would say, a gift from Heaven. Gentlemen, fill 
your glasses, and I will give you a toast, and I propose 
it with feelings of the deepest thankfulness and grati- 
tude to the Supreme Being. Here is to the happiness 
and future prosperity of Mr. and Mrs. Salathiel, and a 
safe voyage to them across the sea.” 

Captain Fraser and the lieutenant sprang to their feet 
and drained their glasses, still half dazed by the extraor- 
dinary stroke of good fortune that had befallen. 

Salathiel rose to his feet as they sat down. “ My 
friends,” he said, “ I have no words to express the deep 
feeling of gratitude and reverence I have to-night to- 
wards God, and for you, through whom this miracle 
of deliverance has been wrought. Your love and good- 
ness for a friendless outlaw is wonderful. I cannot 
find words to express my feelings ; 6 my cup runneth 
over.’ I will say this, however. I shall hold this 
‘ safe-conduct ’ of the authorities as a very sacred thing, 
not to be flaunted about, but to be used only when abso- 
lutely needed, to preserve for me and mine our liberty. 
Sir James, I owe to you and to the Government an 
apology. I would not have believed it possible that 
such a thing as this could be. You have more than re- 
deemed your promise, made to me in the midst of fire, 
in the Adullam Glen.” 


A BREAK IN THE CLOUDS 335 

lie read the safe-conduct again, still standing, and 
placed it carefully in its official envelope, stamped with 
the Royal Arms, and put it into an inside pocket. 

“We may unlock the door now,” said Sir James, 
smiling ; “ come into the other room and I will tell you 
more about the document which has so completely 
altered the outlook for our friend, and indeed for ua 
all . . . It was Colonel Thompson himself who brought 
it.” 

“Good old dad!” ejaculated the lieutenant. “I 
guessed as much ; but go on, Sir James.” 

“ He told me he had read the shorthand notes of my 
interview with the Governor, and asked me if I had 
given any information whatever to the press. Of 
course I replied I had not done so.” 

“ ‘ Under certain conditions/ he said, c will you 
promise me not to do so, in any shape or form, no mat- 
ter what may appear about the affair in print ? 9 

“ I replied that if the conditions proved satisfactory 
to myself and my friends, I would promise. 

“ ‘ Will you pledge me your word of honour that 
Salathiel and his men shall leave Australia quietly 
within a month, without their personality being known 
to the public, and that anything in the shape of a safe- 
conduct will only be used with the greatest caution and 
discretion ? 9 

“ I pledged him my word. 

“ On handing me the document which our friend 
Salathiel has now in his possession, he said : 6 Kindly 

explain this to your friends. Only two people in 
Australia know of this safe-conduct, I and another. 
The inspector who signed it has no knowledge for whom 
it was made out. I am the only person responsible for 


THE OUTLAW 


336 

it, and I confidently expect that all those to whom you 
are obliged to disclose its existence will be careful to 
guard the secret with the utmost vigilance. I am 
giving Major McFarlane, who I understand has a 
friendly feeling toward Salathiel’s intended wife, tem- 
porary charge of Maitland and the northern district, 
and for the next month my son will relieve the officer 
in charge of the fortifications at Newcastle. Impress 
upon Salathiel to exercise as much caution and secrecy 
as possible; don’t allow anything to be done to arouse 
unnecessarily the suspicion of the local police. Get 
them all clear of Australia, if possible within a fort- 
night. And be thankful that you had a friend at court 
who is not only versed in diplomacy, but possesses some 
common sense/ ” 

It was with light hearts that for another hour the 
friends, for we may now so speak of them, completed 
their business arrangements for a midnight wedding 
and the prompt dispatch of the 'Nancy Lee . 


CHAPTER XLII 


THE MIDNIGHT WEDDING 

T HE arrangements made by Salathiel for his de- 
parture were singularly complete. If the success 
of a general depends upon his ability not only to con- 
duct wide-spread movements of men, but also to enter 
minutely into details, this outlaw should have made a 
successful military commander. 

At this juncture nothing seemed to escape his eye, 
and in all directions friends and willing workers offered 
him assistance. Not one who had sworn allegiance to 
the Adullam brotherhood was overlooked; the future 
welfare of each was provided for, either by billets 
among the settlers on the Liverpool Plains, or in a new 
career beyond the sea. The schooner was not likely to 
sail shorthanded, as was so often the case with ocean- 
going vessels at this time, for in addition to berths 
having been booked for several third-class male passen- 
gers to ’Frisco, she carried a full complement of sea- 
men, several of whom were to join at Newcastle. They 
were Salathiel’s men, who were coming down from the 
north, disguised. 

The marriage was to be solemnised by the Scotch 
minister of the Sydney church, who would be in New- 
castle for the ceremony ; which was to begin five minutes 
after midnight on the morning of Betsy’s twentieth 
birthday, and the wedding breakfast was to be taken on 


THE OUTLAW 


338 

board the Nancy Lee , which would be lying out at the 
anchorage, cleared from the Custom House, and ready 
for sea. 

The schooner would have a full passenger list from 
Sydney to Newcastle, for Poddy Carey was to give 
Betsy away, and Mrs. Carey, Buth Salathiel, and Amos 
Gordon were also to be present, with Alice Carey and 
Judy Gardiner as bridesmaids. Procks for the wed- 
ding and the bride’s trousseau had already been ordered 
by Ruth Salathiel, and souvenirs of jewellery for brides- 
maids and relations, presents for the bride, and even 
gifts for Amos Gordon and Bob, and Betsy’s aunt and 
uncle at Morpeth, were all to hand in readiness. 

Kingdon Ponds was nearly a hundred miles from 
Newcastle, but Salathiel reckoned that Betsy and Bob 
could easily ride down in a couple of days ; but to male© 
sure, they were to leave Kingdon Ponds the evening 
before, and ride to Patrick’s Plains by moonlight. The 
horses had been stable-fed, and carefully groomed for 
a fortnight, and were fit for anything. Bob thought 
that Betsy’s mare was a bit too flash ; “ she’s ready,” 
said he, “to jump out of her skin.” Eleetfoot had 
been sent on, so disguised that few people would recog- 
nise him, in charge of one of the men, who was travel- 
ling slowly, in company with a Newcastle teamster, who 
carried loading for the Nancy Lee . 

Salathiel had gone down in advance to see to a num- 
ber of things, but Betsy, although she had read the Gov- 
ernment’s safe-conduct with astonished eyes, waited for 
the evening of departure with nervous apprehension. 

“ Surely,” she whispered to Bob, “ everything will 
go right at last. How I wish it were all over, and we 
were a hundred miles out at sea ! ” 


THE MIDNIGHT WEDDING 339 

Major McFarlane was now convalescent, and pleased 
with his new appointment, but altogether dissatis- 
fied with the prospect of being finally separated from 
Betsy, with whom, as every one about the place knew, 
except Betsy, he had fallen over head and ears in love. 
The Major wanted to know all sorts of things about 
Betsy. She told him she was going home, so he wanted 
to know where her home was, and how she was going 
to travel to Sydney; whether by steamer from New- 
castle or overland. She guessed at last what was the 
matter with him, and gave him most seductive oppor- 
tunities to speak; but the loving Scotchman hesitated, 
and proposed to travel southward with them himself. 

Betsy would have flirted with Bob, only he was her 
brother, so as to make the cautious officer speak his 
mind ; but however reckless he might have been in war, 
he was too canny to be over-precipitate in love, and 
Betsy began to regard him as an insufferable nuisance. 
She could not tell him she was about to be married, for 
he would have asked her a hundred curious questions, 
and that, she thought, would be jumping out of the 
frying-pan into the fire. 

“ Good gracious, Bob ! ” she said, “ whatever shall 
we do with him ? ” 

Bob thought he had hit upon a luminous suggestion, 
and said, “ Ask him to lend you twenty pounds.” 

“ You booby ! ” she replied, laughing, “ he’d lend it 
to me at once, and make matters twenty times worse. 
No, I’ll have to tell him that I’m engaged, and then 
he’ll want to know who to, and ask me more questions. 
Why don’t you suggest something sensible, Bob ? 
You’re not a bit of good.” 

Bob had got quite friendly with the major, and found 


THE OUTLAW 


340 

out that he was trying to discover as much as possible 
about Salathiel, whom he imagined to be in hiding in 
the ranges. But, of course, not a soul at Kingdon Ponds 
knew anything about him ! 

“ Isn’t he a bother ? ” said Betsy. “ And we have to 
start in a couple of days. I wish to goodness that 
something might happen that would call him away.” 

But Bob had a plan of his own, which he was afraid 
to tell Betsy about. 

However, Betsy was getting desperate, and that even- 
ing she determined to take the bull by the horns and 
speak to the major herself. It was a beautifully calm 
moonlight night, and they were all three sitting out on 
the verandah, when at a whispered suggestion from his 
sister, Bob made an excuse to go away. 

The moon was glinting over the distant Liverpool 
Ranges, bathing the gum-trees and willows by the creek 
in soft liquid lustre. Betsy was thinking of the now 
deserted stronghold under Oxley’s Peak, and recalling 
many things about it of which Jack and Bob had told 
her. Thinking, she passed into reverie, and as the 
soldier smoked his pipe and watched her, he thought 
her wondrous beautiful, and a line of an old song came 
to him, very appropriate to his present doubts and fears. 
He tried to banish it and forget it, but like a mocking, 
haunting melody, it again and again repeated itself: 
“ Thou art so near and yet so far.” 

He, too, was feeling desperate, and he knocked the 
ashes out of his pipe, almost resolved to ask Betsy at 
once. 

“ What a beautiful night it is, Miss Carey,” he said ; 
“you have been in a brown study. May I ask what 
you were thinking about ? ” 


THE MIDNIGHT WEDDING 341 

“ Would you really like to know ? ” said Betsy, “ or 
do you ask for the sake of saying something nice ? ” 

“ I would really like to know,” he said. It was a 
fashion of his, like other Scotchmen, to answer people’s 
questions economically; that is, as nearly as possible in 
their own words. 

“ Then,” replied Betsy, “ I will tell you, but you 
know it’s in confidence, and I want you to keep it a 
secret. You know you have promised to be good to 
me, if I needed your assistance.” 

“ Betsy,” said the major, moved by the witchery of 
the hour to use her Christian name, “ I promised to 
serve you with my life.” 

“ Well, one night,” said Betsy, “ when you were very 
ill and raving, you talked a great deal about Salathiel, 
and spoke of him as one generous enemy might speak 
of another. I was pleased with what you said about the 
outlaw, and I determined then that you were worth 
while saving, and resolved to make a fight for your life. 
But later on you had a terrible relapse; you were in 
awful paroxysms of pain, and it gave Bob and Morrison 
hard work to hold you down upon the bed. Dr. Thomp- 
son was miles away, and I saw no hope of your lasting 
out the night ; when I was absolutely despairing of your 
life, one who represented himself as a doctor came in 
from the Glen of Adullam. He had some wonderful 
medicine with him, which, with some difficulty, he 
forced you to take. Your rigid muscles relaxed, and 
half an hour afterward you broke out into a perspira- 
tion, and presently fell asleep. It was Jack Salathiel 
that was the doctor, and he saved your life.” 

Betsy’s voice had fallen almost to a whisper, and there 
followed a long pause. 


THE OUTLAW 


34 ^ 

At last, the major asked, in a hard, strange voice, 
“ Why did you not tell me this before ? ” 

“ Because I love him,” replied Betsy in little more 
than a whisper, “ and I’m engaged to be married to 
him.” 

There was another long pause, during which the major 
struggled hard with his feelings. He had evidently no 
chance, he thought, but, oh, the perversity of woman! 
To think of a beautiful girl like Betsy being engaged 
to be married to an outlaw! 

“Where did you meet him?” he presently asked. 

“ Down at my home on the south coast, where he was 
our school-teacher.” 

“ I heard about that, and how he deceived the people 
there completely.” 

“ Ho,” said Betsy, “ he deceived no one there ; we 
just saw him as he really was, and is; an educated 
gentleman, with no vices at all such as you would expect 
to find in an outlaw ; kind-hearted, and as true as steel.” 

“ You speak warmly in his favour, Miss Oarey ; did 
you know him long?” 

“ Only for a few weeks then ; but I saw him every 
day in school. He never made a sign that he cared for 
me, or spoke one word about love while he was my 
school-teacher ; but I have corresponded with him since 
for over twelve months.” 

“ But he’s a bushranger and outlaw ! ” 

“You may call him what you like, Major McEar- 
lane,” said Betsy, with a little break in her voice ; “ he 
has been strangely unfortunate; he made one mistake 
when he was a student, and little more than a boy ; and 
he has since become what your cruel laws and convict 
system have made him ; but people may say what they 


THE MIDNIGHT WEDDING 343 

will of him, I know him to be a good man, and if all 
the world were against him I’d love him still, and 
marry him if he had a chance of getting away from 
this land of convict servitude and official despotism.” 

The major looked at Betsy in surprise. “ I expect 
that you hate men like myself and Captain Moore, who 
have been trying to capture Salathiel,” he said. 

“ I certainly don’t love you,” replied Betsy with a 
smile ; “ but you’re not like some of them. What you 
have done has been only your duty. And then I hap- 
pen to know that you think more kindly and fairly of 
my friend than do officials like Captain Moore.” 

“ Upon my soul, I do ! ” replied the soldier impet- 
uously, “ and I fear from what you say, and from what 
I have heard before, that Salathiel has not had a fair 
chance. 

“ And so he saved my life, Miss Carey,” he said re- 
flectively, “ and you intend some day to marry him. 
Why does he not leave Australia now? He’ll never 
have a better opportunity.” 

“ What would you do, Major, if you saw me with 
him, and knew that he was trying to escape from this 
country ? ” 

“ That’s a hard question, Miss Carey ; but I think 
that I should close my eyes, and wish myself the out- 
law who is going to marry you.” 

“Will you promise me something, Major? You 
know you are not overstrong yet, and I’m still your 
nurse. I’d like you to shut your eyes for a week.” 

Betsy looked at him; it was clear moonlight, and 
their eyes met. He seemed to understand her. 

“ Yes,” he said slowly. “ I think I owe it to you 
. . . you and he saved my life. I’ll write to head- 


THE OUTLAW 


344 

quarters that Fm hardly strong enough yet to travel. 
I’ll stay at Kingdon Ponds, Betsy, for another week, 
and keep my eyes shut. But don’t whisper it to a 
soul,” he said, as he stood up and took her hand. u May 
you be happy, Betsy, and get away in peace.” 

When Bob and Betsy rode to Newcastle there was 
a letter in Betsy’s pocket from Major McParlane, which, 
had she shown to any officious soldier or policeman, 
would have been quite sufficient to remove from their 
minds any suspicion as to their identity and right to 
travel upon the Queen’s highways, and furthermore, 
would have ensured for them official recognition and 
respect. 

The major’s love for Betsy had induced him, un- 
solicited, to do a good deal more for her than keep his 
eyes shut. 

• .•••••« • 

Near midnight, on the eve of Betsy’s birthday, she 
and Bob rode quietly into Newcastle. The schooner 
lay at the anchorage ready for sea, the guests, in a state 
of almost breathless suspense and expectation, were 
gathered in the parlour of the manse. The church, 
which adjoined, was lit up; and every policeman in 
Newcastle, save one or two in charge of the station-house 
and wharves, had, late at night, been called away to 
Wallsend, ten miles distant. 

The clocks of the city had struck twelve, when the 
party walked through the moonlit shrubberies from 
the manse to the church. There was no haste, for the 
schooner would not sail until daylight. 

Lieutenant Thompson, Captain Fraser, and George 
Lennox were waiting in the church with Salat hiel and 
the minister, when Poddy Carey led Betsy across, in 


THE MIDNIGHT WEDDING 345 

veil and orange blossoms and silk attire. The brides- 
maids followed, and then came Sir James Bennett with 
Mrs. Carey’s hand upon his arm. Bob and Ruth Sala- 
thiel and Amos Gordon and Mr. and Mrs. Dawson 
brought up the rear. With prayer and exhortation, and 
blessing and benediction, the twain were made one 
“ until death do us part.” The bride was kissed and 
the bridegroom congratulated, and finally the whole 
party walked to the wharf, where two rowing-boats were 
waiting at the steps. 

One of the few policemen left in the city watched the 
laughing party as they approached the wharf. He 
saluted respectfully as he recognised Lieutenant Thomp- 
son with them, and resumed his beat along the quay. 

The round moon, full and clear, looked like a silver 
goblet, pouring a flood of light on land and sea, “ turn- 
ing to spiritual the solid world.” Strong rowers urged 
the boats swiftly over the bay, in the direction of the 
schooner; but Jack’s heart beat fast, and tears stood in 
Betsy’s eyes ; happy tears mayhap ! but still tears ; for 
all danger was not yet passed for her beloved. 

The Nancy Lee was a( sq uare rigged scjbooner y of over 
three hundred tons, built like’a yacKt, with raking masts, 
and lines suggesting speed. She looked a beautiful 
figure upon the water, with light spars and net-work of 
rigging, which stood out in the moonlight, yards ready 
to be squared, and white sails hanging loose in the gas- 
kets, to be shaken out and dropped and hauled taut 
to the land breeze, which hummed in the rigging as 
though urging her to lift anchor, and away. A flag 
was flying at the peak, and an air of readiness pervaded 
the whole vessel. Every one seemed on the alert. It 
was the first mate’s watch ; but all hands had mustered 


THE OUTLAW 


346 

to salute the wedding party as they stepped off the gang- 
way, upon the clean white deck, and passed into the 
saloon. There was a piano on board, and as arranged 
by the captain, the second mate began to play Mendels- 
sohn’s “ Wedding March.” Bob could have shouted at 
the success and completeness of the whole affair. 

It was an early breakfast, said Captain Fraser, as 
he took the skipper’s place at the head of the table, but 
before they sat down, he would like to remind them that 
it was the bride’s birthday, and he would propose the 
old time toast and wish her many happy returns of the 
day. It was a pleasant thought, for as they drank to 
the bride’s birthday, passing regrets seemed to be for- 
gotten, and they sat down a bright merry company, who 
laughed and chatted over an Australian outlaw’s wed- 
ding feast. 

How fast the hours passed by with congratulatory 
speeches ! “ The Bride and Bridegroom’s health,” and 

halting replies, when hearts were too full for many 
words. But there was no watching for the morning; 
it seemed to come all too quickly for them. 

Scarcely had all the speeches been made, when Sir 
J ames called the company’s attention to the dawn-light, 
stealing through the port-holes, and announced that the 
row-boats were waiting to take the guests on shore. 


CHAPTER XLIII 


SUNLIGHT ON THE SEA 

T HE cheery clank of the windlass warned the guests 
to hasten their good-byes. They were hauling the 
slack of the anchor chain through the hawse-holes, and 
the Nancy Lee lay with her prow seaward — facing the 
dawn. The moon hung low behind them in the west; 
fitting parable of the hopeful future of Salathiel and- 
his bride. The dawn of a new day was breaking, night 
shadows were behind them, and there was sunlight for 
them on the sea. They stood at the gangway to shake 
hands or kiss for the last time, and seldom was there 
such a leave-taking. Mrs. Carey was crying, although 
for Jack and Betsy’s sake, she tried hard to clear her 
face and smile, and wipe away her tears. Amos Gordon 
was most thankful that Salathiel had escaped : he knew 
nothing about the “ safe-conduct,” which, by the way, 
had never once been exhibited to military or police. 
The old man had known and loved Betsy from a child, 
and as he looked at the happy pair, and thought of all 
the sad, rugged past, he might have been heard repeat- 
ing the old Church hymn, for he was as godly as ever, 
and his Bible and hymn book were mostly in his mind : 

“ What troubles have we seen ! 

What conflicts have we passed! 

Fighting without and fears within. 

Since we assembled last; 

H7 


348 


THE OUTLAW 


But out of all the Lord, 

Has brought us by His love, 

And still He doth His help afford. 

And hides our lives above.” 

But the boats were full, and cheers given, and hand- 
kerchiefs waved. The skipper of the Nancy Lee was 
shaking hands, for the third time, with Lieutenant 
Thompson ; they were rather confused by the excitement 
of the leave-taking. 

“ Good-bye, Lieutenant,” said the captain, “ we’ve 
got through far better than we expected.” 

“ Get your anchor up,” whispered Lieutenant Thomp- 
son, “ as soon as ever we push off. There must be no 
misadventure now; it would kill us all.” 

“ Aye ! aye ! I’ll see to that,” replied the captain. 

The sun was just rising out of the sea, as the order 
was given to weigh anchor and haul away at jibs and 
fore-sail. It was a fair wind to cany them straight out 
of the bay, and the ocean was burnished before them 
with the sunrise, which dazzled the eyes, as it flung a 
golden pathway across the tossing waters. 

The row-boats grew smaller and smaller as the 
schooner drew out, with a fair wind bellying her sails, 
and Salathiel drew long breaths of the salt sea air — 
breaths, as it were, of relief and satisfaction. In 
another half-hour they would be out on the deep, free, 
rolling sea. 

Silent and absorbed, Salathiel stood by Betsy’s side, 
as the schooner, catching the full force of the ocean 
breeze, bowed to it like a sea-bird, and shook the white 
foam from her shapely bows. 

They were passing Nobby’s Head! 

Suddenly a sound of music reached them from the 


SUNLIGHT ON THE SEA 


349 

shore. Lieutenant Thompson must have turned out 
some of the bandsmen. They were playing the haunt- 
ing Scotch melody: 

“ Will ye noo come back again ? ” 

Unaccustomed tears filled Jack’s eyes, but he smiled 
through them, as he pressed his young wife’s hand, for 
he was his own man now, and free. 

“ Betsy,” he said, “ perhaps we will some day come 
back again; but it will be when the good times have 
come for Australia, and the dear old flag floats over a 
regenerated land.” 

“ Yes,” said Betsy, looking up into his face with eyes 
full of love ; “ we will come back again, J ack, ‘ when 
the day dawns, and the shadows flee away.’ ” 













































































i 




0 






•4 




















( 






